I Do, But That's It
by InChrist-Billios
Summary: A story about two sets of lives which go directly opposite of Fairy Tale norm, and how the occupants survive without killing each other... :set in the land of Not All Surprises Are Pleasant:
1. The Wedding

**20 . 8 . 07 **

**Alright, instead of Jab, I'm writing this story. It's kind of a fluffy one, but I think it will probably actually be one of my most serious stories, so I hope you enjoy it --gulp--**

** Oh yeah, I'm putting the quotes at the beginning of this one instead of Jab, because most of them are more applicable to this story anyhow.**

* * *

"_I'll begin as all stories of this nature begin, with:_

_Once Upon a Time…"_

All Tales Have Happy Endings –Nyght Musique

* * *

The grand cathedral in the center of the capital city had never been fuller than it was on this day. People were crammed into every pew and squeezed mercilessly into the balcony where they fanned themselves as best they could to dispel the sticky heat. 

_An old room let the light in, sparkling dully on the motes of dust as they were disturbed by the people walking in._

Everyone, even the children, were scrubbed and dressed to the nines, and a good half of them were actually listening to the priest as he slowly ambled on in his speech. The woman in front of him was breathtaking; her dress of ethereal white seemed to exude peace to everyone nearby, along with her gentle smile and friendly eyes.

_The woman smoothed her well-worn cotton dress with slightly trembling hands, refusing to look up into the preacher's sympathetic eyes, or the eyes of the man beside her._

The priest cleared his throat and another quarter of the audience trained their eyes on him.

"Do you, Prince Roderic Franklin Alaciea of Terriot take Princess Katharine Florette Edinas of Rijhad to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"_Do you, Jody Frannlin take Celeste O'Leary Wilson to be your wife?"_

"I do," the man said steadily, looking just to the left of the pretty brunette's eyes, masked by the veil.

"_I do," the blacksmith murmured firmly._

"And do you, Princess Katharine Florette Edinas of Rijhad take Prince Roderic Franklin Alaciea of Terriot to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"_Do you, Celeste O'Leary Wilson take Jody Flannlin to be your husband?"_

"I do," the girl said with a small nod.

"_I do," Celeste said, a tear falling for each word._

Behind them the crowd waited, an expectant hush befalling them. A little boy tugged on his sister's bonnet and she glared at him, pressing a finger to her lips.

"Then, by the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

"_I pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."_

The priest smiled faintly as the crowd erupted in wild cheers, congratulating everyone in sight. There were few dry eyes to be seen as the man lifted the veil.

**The man kissed the woman and they were married, ready to live happily every after. **

Right?

Not quite.

**That is only part of the story -- the end of one tale and the beginning of another. The first story you have heard multiple times to be sure, though it has been given a new ending than this every time. **

The princess is arranged to marry the prince and they have never met. The princess or prince (or both) is devastated because he or she already has a secret lover with some member of the community lower in rank.

_A husband goes to war to protect his country and his wife, leaving her with the promise that he will return, for who can truly keep true love apart?_

They:

Manage to circumvent the marriage and live happily ever after with their beloved.

Discover that their beloveds are actually each other and get married and live happily ever after.

Run away and meet each other in their travels, forgetting about their beloveds (who never loved them anyway) and then returning to marry and live happily ever after.

_He comes home a hero, his life unchanged by the horrors he witnessed, and lives happily ever after with his love._

_He returns crippled, but able to return to normal life, and his wife, who never lost hope, loves him anyway._

_Previously a man uncomfortable with himself, he finds true meaning in life and comes home a better man than when he left._

**This story is none of the above. But it is important too; it teaches the valuable lesson that love is sometimes better earned than found, and a relationship worked for is sweeter than one that falls into place. **

* * *

**Final word count: 658**

**Review and give me your opinions, PLEASE. I don't know if this came off as too confusing...**

**I'll give you Twinkies?**

**One more item of business; **Lobuck** is about to post the first chapter of a spectacular story which shall be entitled "A Soldier at His Own Expense". Please read it -- it really is _quite_ good.  
**


	2. Joining the Army

**24 . 8 . 07**

**Back in record time, I think! I'm going to get myself a bowl of ice cream for that. Because I'm updating sooner than I thought I would, I actually didn't ask **FaylinnNorse** for permission to use that quote down there. --gulp-- I'm trusting that it's alright, since you gave me permission to quote something else of yours? But **Faylinn**, if you don't want it there, just let me know. Sorry for not asking in advance.  
**

**Note:**** Just in case you miss that little italicized line down there, the next few chapters come before the first chapter, to save you a substantial amount of confusion. **

* * *

_"Let's play tag!" Xavia suggested. _

_"In the dark?" Sophia questioned._

_"Yes! It's more fun that way anyways!"_

_"But, what if—"_

_"Oh, stop with your what-ifs! What if we all die, so what? I'm in," Sara said._

The Dance of the Cursed --FaylinnNorse

* * *

_**Four months prior...**_

The hot, late summer day found an odd pair making their way toward a bustling encampment. One was well over six and a half feet tall, and his muscles were easily visible on his arms as he gripped a well-worn pack and swung it lazily in stride. He almost hit his companion several times intentionally, causing the much smaller man to cry out and punch his friend's bulk uselessly.

The curly-haired man was in no ways weak – on the contrary, he was quite a stocky fellow with enough power to intimidate – but when compared to his friend, it was pointless.

"Just because you're obscenely massive doesn't mean you have to flaunt it," the shorter reminded the laughing man on his right, dodging the heavy bag.

"Why ever not?"

"Save it for the battlefield at least?" he suggested hopefully, dodging again.

"I have enough to go around," the tall man said smugly, "unlike a pip-squeak such as yourself."

"I'm a pip-squeak with a boatload more sense," the shorter man countered, grinning up at his friend.

"Getting married does not give you more sense!" the tall one said, cuffing the curly haired man gently on the head.

The man didn't stumble from the force of the blow, though it was rather hard, but skipped a step or two, thinking of his beautiful wife.

"Yes, it does. And unfortunately for you, I got the most gorgeous, sweet woman in the country. You'll have to settle for second best, as always."

"I haven't found one tall enough yet," his friend quipped. "And look, we've arrived."

The camp was full of men: young and older, somber faced and laughing, muscled and scrawny. The two men approached a table covered in papers behind which sat a man in a sandy-brown uniform.

"Names?" he asked without looking up, grabbing a disheveled stack of papers.

"Jody Flannlin, and I'm Lee Wilson," the curly haired man said. "From Dannibee."

"You're registered, go wait by The Pole for your barracks assignments," the soldier informed them, after scratching something next to a list of names. "You'll get your uniform tomorrow from Corporal Allison when you begin your training."

As they mingled with the diverse crowd gathered around The Pole (a central message board of sorts), Lee couldn't help but think of Celeste. She had been in a right state when he left, and he felt like a traitor for leaving her like that all alone, in their little cottage far from town.

"You're not a traitor," Jody muttered, "and be careful using that word 'round here. There are men in this place so nervous that they might run you through before asking questions."

"I didn't sa-- did I say that out loud?" he asked, crinkling his brow.

"Aye, that you did," Jody affirmed with a teasing smile. "But don't feel bad about Celeste. She can take care of herself."

"I should have asked Old Man Thamson to check on her," Lee worried.

"No, she certainly doesn't need that old coot hanging around, make no mistake," Jody chuckled, putting a solid hand on Lee's shoulder. "'Sides, you're fighting to keep her safe. Remember the raid – "

"Yeah," Lee interrupted swiftly. "And I'm not likely to forget, neither."

The image of the devouring fire snaking toward the house where Celeste was peacefully sleeping while he ran at a full gallop, racing the flames, would never leave him. He had gotten her out just before the house collapsed, but then had the raiding Philettin soldiers to contend with. He and Celeste had just managed to knock them unconscious with a pitchfork and shovel and flee to Dannibee ten miles away before more soldiers arrived.

A private tacked a piece of parchment to The Pole, on top of a few "missing items" flyers. The men crowded closer to the post, but Jody, being more than a foot taller than most of the men there, merely leaned forward and squinted.

"We're both in Barracks Eight," he informed Lee, who was struggling not to be buried in the surging crowd. "Let's find that."

They forced their way out of the mass and quickly located Barracks Eight near the edge of the encampment, past the dusty well. It was a flimsy, wooden building that was obviously collapsible, and furthermore set up unsteadily.

"A support here and here, and a few good, solid hinges with durable screws," Jody assessed upon entering and inspecting the walls. "This sliding lock won't hold more than fifty pounds or so of weight – look Lee, it's iron. They need one out of steel if this thing is going to hold."

"Like the Rijhadite army has money for _steel_ locks when those hold up fine," a man crowed from the top of a double bunk – one of ten identical ones in the barracks. About half of them were filled with sleeping men.

"He didn't say that it did," Lee said placatingly, sensing Jody's annoyance beginning to rise. "He's a blacksmith, he just notices these things. There's nothing wrong with bringing a little bit of home with you to war. It is what we're fighting for, after all."

The man humphed and rolled over.

"What use is fighting for your safety if you lose who you are," Jody agreed thoughtfully. "Well put."

Lee and Jody dropped their bags on the nearest empty bunk and examined their quarters. For having a dirt floor, it was fairly clean, and the sheets looked clean as well. Surprising, but welcome. (They would later learn that slackers were made to wash sheets as their punishment. A double punishment; it was extra work and humiliation)

Jody noticed with narrowed eyes the construction of the collapsible bunk. The wood was rotting around rusted screws and the supports were barely holding the weight of their bags. With a sigh, he pulled a screwdriver and a few of his own screws from his canvas bag and began to fix the bunk so it would hold him up. Lee looked on as he worked, noiselessly removing screws and driving new ones through healthy sections of wood with relative ease.

Men trickled in one at a time, giving him odd looks as they claimed their own bunks. Gruff introductions were traded between the men, but they mostly kept to themselves. Lee twisted a curl between his fingers. Tomorrow they started the brief training period before they were to join up with a few more battalions and march into battle, so he had heard from the crier who'd come to Dannibee a few weeks ago.

Battle.

He gripped the bedpost tighter. He would teach those Philettins to threaten his wife.

* * *

**Final word count: 1105**

**Twinkies to everyone who reviewed last chapter! (except for those who didn't want them. Granola bar, **Midnight Duchess** and **Celestial Starlight**? --offers--)**

floober: **Good! I hope you keep reviewing too!**

Celestial Starlight: **Fear not, I will not put this story on Hiatus! How could I, after such a proclamation? For the good of my fellow authors, indeed. Hum.**

Lobuck: **Good, I'm glad you liked the beginning. It seems the consensus was that it was confusing, but not badly so. --wipes brow-- Good.**

Clar the Pirate: **Thanks for the laugh! Yes, it was a prologuey type starting thing, as you said, so all will be explained soon enough. Cursing the fates, however, can be dangerous. Exercise that threat with care...**

lacrymose: **Thanks!**

Midnight Duchess: **Well, I'm glad somebody wasn't confused. I wasn't confused either, but I suppose that I don't count?**

FaylinnNorse: **If I can pull this off, it **_**will**_** be going against the norm. Cadmus has been contemplating this story for months now, urging me to write it. I'm just hoping I don't lapse into normalcy --gulp--**

daring2dream: **Arranged Marriage vs. Peasant Lady in Distress. Yes. They are very similar and very different, and I hope I can make that much clearer as the story goes on, as well. Having a relationship that falls into place would be fantastic, but unfortunately the concept is overused in the Fairy Tales section, so I'm trying to fight against it. Trying...**

SIMBA: **Erm, here you go?**

**Was the beginning confusing? Or repetitive?**

**Please give me your opinions! And speculate! Any ideas as to what was up with the peasant wedding last chapter? Theories are appreciated. You guys give me great ideas!**

**And don't forget to read "A Soldier at His Own Expense" by **Lobuck

**I'll give you a Lizard Lava SoBe for REVIEW!ing. I don't know, PH likes them, anyhow. Feel free to substitute for a soft drink, if you please. Just review!**


	3. The Battle

**28 . 8 . 07**

**I forgot to warn you last chapter, but these next few chapters are all very dramatic. I did my utmost to make them NOT sound cheezy/awful/soap-operatic, but a warning before you plunge into the thick might be useful. Bring a snorkel!**

**By the by, a few characters from "A Soldier at His Own Expense" (hereafter called SHOE, because it's shorter) make an appearance in this chapter. Stay on the lookout!**

* * *

_"Ashleg froze, listening hard. There was silence, apart from the soft rustling of leaves overhead. But he had heard something out of the ordinary, he was absolutely sure of it. _

_He listened for a few minutes more, hearing nothing. Eventually he gave up and relaxed his alertness. A woodpigeon cooed somewhere off to the west._

_And then the night exploded as dark shapes bounded into the clearing from the undergrowth, blades gleaming in the moonlight. Ashleg yelled in shock and started upwards, grabbing the first blade that came to paw – and fell back screaming as his damaged body refused to obey him. A cloaked figure stood over him, drawing back a club to knock him out._

_Too late he realised: _No woodpigeons at night –_"_

The Ashleg Chronicles -- Clouded Horizon

* * *

"Up an' at 'em boys, 'fore yer woken with a point at yer throats!" bellowed Captain Belladook, his booming voice penetrating through the barracks walls and piercing the men's consciousness. 

Lee yelped and rolled out of bed, landing perfectly on his feet with unmistakable grace and looking around wildly. Jody opened one eye and chuckled. The officers took it in shifts to wake the men up, and each of them had a creative way of doing it.

The men had been woken by terrified screams, jubilant breakfast summons, orders to be on the line in a minute and a half, and the ever favorite under-attack calls which Lee could not get used to, even after three months of hearing them.

"To arms, Rijhad!"

Jody unfolded himself inelegantly from his severely crumpled position on the bed and slid easily off the top bunk.

"Up up up," he said rather cheerfully, poking Joseph on the shoulder.

The lad groaned, but sighed and resolutely rolled off the top bunk, crashing with a poof of dusty earth. Lee, who had since realized that they were not, indeed, under attack, was pulling on his uniform and laughing at the boy, voice muffled by the heavy brown fabric.

"I never will understand Joseph," he remarked, forcing his head through the correct hole and quickly locating the rest of the necessary elements. Pants, shoes, belt, the like.

"Best way to wake up," Joseph moaned, getting up and shoving the pile of blankets onto his bed. "Though I think I have a new bruise on my hip."

"A new bruise?" Jody asked, hurriedly stuffing himself into his own uniform. "Going into battle is not the best time to have a bruise."

Joseph gasped. "I totally forgot! By the hoof, it's battle day, boys!"

He whooped, then was knocked soundly on the head.

"Stop shouting and get dressed or there'll be no supper for you," another man warned. "If you even make it through the battle."

The entirety of the barracks was dressed, armed, and in a line in under four minutes. Joseph was ready in a record setting two. Hardtack and armor were distributed as they began their march to the battlefield fifteen miles away.

"Breakfast of champions, this," Jody remarked, gnawing experimentally on his petrified biscuit.

"What more could we ask for?" argued Joseph. "Drums for everyone!"

He began to bang steadily on his shield with the hardtack, accomplishing a formidable booming noise. Jody and Lee laughed, joining him with accompanying taps. Somewhere, a song started up.

"You nervous?" Jody asked Lee.

"Only a little," Lee admitted.

"Just fight your best and everything will be fine."

"Oh I plan to," Lee said vehemently. "Not that I have much to worry about, with you at my side. Most Philettins will run away at the sight of you!"

Jody laughed, then joined in with the upbeat song.

_You take one step, I'll take two,  
La dee da dee da do, doo da doo,  
Hungry? Here's a rock to chew,  
La dee da dee da do doo! _

_Right! Left! Hop to it laddies!  
Front! Back! No mistakes!  
Look! Sharp! Facing forward!  
Ready ho and march away!_

_Hear the drums thump out our beat,  
La dee da dee da do, doo da dee,  
Boy, you look dead on your feet,  
La dee da dee da do dee! _

_Right! Left! Hop to it laddies!  
Front! Back! No mistakes!  
Look! Sharp! Facing forward!  
Ready ho and march away!_

_Won't stop till the break of day,  
La dee da dee da do, doo da lay,  
No matter if we've lost our way,  
La dee da dee doo da lay!_

_Right! Left! Hop to it laddies!  
Front! Back! No mistakes!  
Look! Sharp! Facing forward!  
Ready ho and march away! _

_To the battle field we go,_

_La dee da dee da do, doo da do_

_Up the broadswords, what a show,_

_La dee da dee da do do!_

* * *

"Get down!" Lee yelled, grabbing Jody's uniform sleeve and attempting to drag him down. 

Jody ducked just in time to miss an arrow that whistled through the air where his eye had been.

"Stay low, Jody!" Lee shouted desperately, then leapt forward to help a beleaguered ally fend off a sturdy Philettin.

After the soldier fell, the two men, united for but a moment, went in different directions. Lee ran to Jody's slightly hunched side, barely avoiding the flashing steel that nearly caught him in the forehead. Jody felled his man before Lee arrived but a squad of Philettins rushed them then, matching the pair swipe for swipe.

They struck and dodged, all the while throwing the occasional nervous glance over their shoulders to be sure they weren't being sneaked up upon. A Philettin stumbled and Lee ran him through without hesitation.

_Four left. No one behind._

Lee was starting to flag – the heat of the battle had been raging for nearly a half hour now, and his stamina wasn't what it should be.

Two more Philettins fell, though Lee paid for it with a nasty gash on his hand and Jody was bleeding profusely from his calf. _One more down._

Jody heard the arrow half an instant too late to shove Lee out of the way.

_Whiz-thunk._

Lee jerked forward, eyes focused on the wood protruding from his chest. He dropped his sword and it clattered against his shield, raising a clang like a brass bell.

Jody blocked a quick attack and raised himself up to full height, eyes trained in the direction the arrow had come from. A man on horseback with his bow raised seemed to be the only archer in position to take the shot.

The blacksmith roared, taking the two remaining Philettins by surprise; he killed them both before they could draw another breath. He dropped to his knees as an arrow made another close call, swishing through the hair on the side of his head.

Lee had fallen onto his side and was staring blankly forward, a dribble of red leaking from the corner of his too-pale mouth and nose.

"Lee?" Jody said, grabbing his friend's arm with his left hand, sword arm still poised for attack. "Lee?"

No response. His heart thudded twice and he blinked, then let out a cry eerily akin to a wounded animal and jumped to his feet and charged toward the archer who had not moved from his safe position behind the footsoldiers.

Jody struck out with deadly accuracy at anything that came in front of him, leaping over bodies and fallen weapons until there was nothing between him and the rider. The man – a youth, Jody vaguely established – turned his head and saw Jody just before he slammed into the side of the horse, knocking it over with a combination of momentum and strength.

The boy screamed and landed hard on his back, disentangling his foot from the stirrup a second before the horse fell on it. He scrambled backward on his hands, not daring to turn his back. Jody raised his bloodied sword high and brought it smashing down on the bow that the archer had thrust in front of himself. The bow, cut cleanly in half and held together by only the string, went spinning away.

He saw an arrow fired by one of the lad's fellow archers and rolled before it caught his shoulder. The horse struggled to get up, and Jody leapt over it, swinging his sword down for the fatal blow. But the archer had grabbed a sword from someplace and attempted to block the mighty stroke.

Jody's weapon was deflected from his chest, burying into the youth's thigh instead. Jody wrenched it out and the archer screamed in both pain and fear. He knew he was staring Death square in the eye; his vivid green eyes were rimmed with terror. He even dropped his sword in shock, blocking his chest uselessly with his arms as his pants leg quickly turned a morbid scarlet.

Jody stayed the blade's ferocious downward swoop an inch from the boy's sweating neck. A boy. He wasn't even an adult yet, and had the distinct look of one overused and underfed. Perhaps he had family, like Lee.

He was still screaming, the unearthly sound tearing Jody's soul to shreds.

_But he killed Lee._

He pressed the sword to the archer's throat.

"Never again will you tear apart a family," Jody shouted over his screams.

Before he could slit the boy's throat, he felt an excruciating pain in his leg and collapsed, rolling away from the lad as horse's hooves smashed down where he had almost fallen.

"_He's bleeding a lot, Lieutenant, we need to get him out of here!"_

He reached down and ripped two arrows out, standing quickly to defend himself against a footsoldier. A flash of flaming red hair almost distracted him, was that a child on the battlefield? He snapped back into the battle when his opponent's sword sliced through his shirt and bit into his stomach. After a struggle, he managed to kill the man by brute force, but he could no longer stand on his leg.

"Joseph!" he called, spying the boy nearby.

He came running.

"Help me out of here, I can't stand," he said.

Joseph, pale-faced, obeyed, staggering under the weight of the wounded man.

"You see Lee?" he asked shakily, leading Jody as quickly as possible back through their own ranks. "I didn't know until I tripped over him and landed in – " he convulsed a little, "landed in a puddle of hi – his blood. I opened my eyes and saw those – those – by the hoof, I shan't even call them eyes. They were so empty of sight and life."

"I saw him," Jody replied, sitting heavily with the other injured soldiers along the back lines.

Joseph nodded curtly, then ran back into the fray.

His leg was on fire in three different places, and he was fairly sure that he tore some muscle when he pulled the arrows out, but he could care less. He didn't even try to flag down the medic, thinking dully that bleeding to death was better than dealing with this horror. Jody could not believe that Lee was dead, but he did believe it, and he hated himself for it.

He grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled, adding new, sharp pain to his already tortured body and soul.

_Lee's dead._

He choked on a cry of despair, tears burning through his eyes and leaving fiery trails down his cheeks.

_Not. Lee._

Jody put his face in his hands and curled up. This was too much. He let loose another murderous sob and tears streamed through his hands. He was supposed to protect Lee. _Lee_ had a family. _Jody _did not.

Celeste.

He had to tell Celeste why Lee was dead and he lived.

Jody couldn't hold the grief at bay any longer. It overtook him with paralyzing sobs and wails, and he could not strain past the horrendous, suffocating misery that engulfed him.

_He_ was alive.

* * *

**Final word count: 1837**

**There we have it. Was that overdone? Scale it back? Not enough? Let me know!**

**And thank you, you few who ventured theories. Another SoBe for you!**

Emma A. Piper: **Thanks for reviewing! I hope you keep reading...**

Celestial Starlight: **Don't be confused, there's nothing special about the threatening-wife-stuff, other than the raid which you already know about. At least, not that I've formulated yet. Hm.**

FaylinnNorse: **Yes, it's four months earlier than chapter one. Well, this chapter is about 3 months or so later. If that makes any sense. Basically, this chapter is about a month before chapter one. Yes, Celeste and Jody got married. Make sense?**

Daring2dream: **YES! I cheered when I read your review. Someone got it. Sheesh. I didn't think it was that hidden. But anyway, yes, thank you for noticing. --hands you a fresh juicy fuji apple-- Well, Celeste didn't actually sleep through a burning house, she slept while the fire got closer to the house. Thanks for leaving a nice long review. --extra SoBe for you--**

Clar the Pirate: **That is careful enough, I should think. ;) Wonderful idea, but I cannot abide unhappy endings. Have a case of SoBes for your trouble, though. --hands the case-- Oh good, I'm glad my parentheses fit well. I'm not overfond of them for that reason, actually. --wipes brow--**

Midnight Duchess: **Too formal? --chews on lip-- I changed a word or two, so it might be a touch better. I don't know. Hum.**

Lobuck: **I'm glad you laughed! That is one of the best things I could hope to hear –smile-- Thanks!**

Cimh: **I'm going, I'm going! ;)**

Eeko: **Thank you for joining onto this story! I hope you stick around!**

**If you review, I'll hand out slices of chocolate mousse pie!**


	4. Expected Unexpected

**2 . 9 . 07**

**Chapter four! A very cliché kind of chapter. But I promise that this one and the next one should about fill that quota and we can move on with the story and its hopefully un-cliché rest of it. Though, I can't deny this one was fun to write. --smile--**

* * *

_Jon turned to Ryan. "Why are you here?" _

_Ryan stopped dead in her tracks, her leather slippers not making a sound. "I've waited, Jon. I've waited six years."_

"_But-"_

_Ryan shook her redheaded head. "I've loved you longer and deeper. I've loved you since I saw you…" Her voice trailed off._

_Jon's stomach somersaulted. "But… You've been nothing but a friend. You gave me no signs, no hints."_

_Ryan's feet led her right up to his and her bright green eyes took in his. "I gave you a million," She whispered. She stood on her tiptoes. Her full lips caught his by surprise. Slowly she released. "One million and one." She told him._

Mistake --Nixiesocean

* * *

The spacious chamber, once filled quite comfortably with varied art and furniture was significantly emptied -- the Prince's favorite items having been removed already to the temporary castle he would be living in with his soon to be wife. Roderic looked around, his eyes exploring every tactfully covered vacancy. The room was still masterful, but less familiar, he thought. Somehow, the absence of those few items changed the appearance of the entire room. 

_Odd. If small changes have a large affect, will large changes have a small affect overall, given that you are expecting the difference? _It was a thought. He gnawed his lower lip, forehead creasing. Getting married would be a large change, and it worried him. It was everything he ever wanted, that was not the issue. He was concerned with the details, a characteristic which was nerve-wracking but often helpful. He decided to reconsider the major points, in hopes it would assuage the uneasiness with the little things.

He knew the marriage was mutually beneficial. It would provide Rijhad with troops, arms, and strategists, which was something his country dearly needed in this unprecedented war against Philettin. The country had legions of willing fighters, but not enough armor and weapons or skilled military men to properly utilize the enthusiasm.

In turn, the countries would open up their border for free trade, and Terriot would receive a large quantity of produce as the Princess' dowry. _The gold of corn for the glint of steel, _Roderic thought with a small smile. In addition, a fair number of experienced farmers would travel across Terriot on a year long journey, teaching the farming towns how to better cultivate their lands. Rijhad thought it a small price to pay for the masterful Terriotian army, which would ensure them a victory against the ragtag Philettins.

Almost every issue had been compromised on now, two weeks from the wedding date. But still, the insignificant details remained. What _was_ the Princess like, for instance? Though she had been invited to join the council's meetings on many different days, she had always respectfully declined, pleading her ignorance on such topics.

And between those selfsame meetings, the constant updates from the battlefield and the preparation for his relocation, he had barely time for a harried conversation with the Princess on the occasions she did visit the castle. No matter how he looked at it, there was no way to get to know her better until after the wedding, when he would be given a two-week long break from life in general before the celebratory ball. Not the ideal situation.

"But that cannot be helped," he told himself, running his fingers through the golden tassels of an embroidered pillow depicting King Rothgre leading the charge against the Ellespethians decades past. An old legend.

A quiet, but firm knocking on the door grabbed his attention. He recognized that knock.

"Enter," he said, turning around. His pulse quickened subconsciously.

A woman sidled in and curtsied, glossy black hair sliding over her shoulder. She pushed it away and gave Roderic a familiar smile.

"The council meets in ten minutes, my lord," she reminded him. "How did I know I'd find you here, worrying about something?"

"I was not worrying," Roderic said, too quickly, then paused. "Well, I suppose I was. I cannot help thinking about the Princess," he explained.

She nodded understandingly, then seemed to notice dust on the mahogany table by the window. She pulled a rag from her pocket and wiped it clean while saying emphatically:

"I thank the powers that be every day for not letting me be born a noble. There is always the fear of arranged marriage in that esteemed upper class, which scares most of them into not loving anyone at all. For those who do risk love are sometimes torn away from their choice just for a better bargain. As a peasant, I am free to bestow my love on whomever I so desire without fear."

Roderic felt illogically uncomfortable after her statement – she always spoke so frankly. It was both disturbing and enlightening. Her honesty was... strangely genuine. That was something he would never get used to.

"A penny for your thoughts?" she asked, walking over to him and replacing the worn rag in her pocket.

He shook his head, so as to clear it.

"You have such strange views, Samantha," he said truthfully.

"I think you have strange views, milord," she said, laughing and cocking her head; the sunlight illuminated rich auburn lowlights in her hair.

_My views? Strange? Is it not more strange that she would choose someone for herself, rather than letting the wisdom and 'bargain' spell out the best choice? But, what if my views are strange, wrong even, and hers are normal? What if I am missing something? What if the Princess cannot stand me, and neither of us are ever happy?_

The rapidly degrading thoughts filled his heart with ice and he felt his palms begin to sweat.

_What if I am making the biggest mistake of my life?_

"My – my lord?" she stammered, taking his hand. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

He looked at her, then forced a question out, trusting her advice to help him answer it, as she had helped him before.

"What do I do if she does not like me?"

Samantha looked marginally more at ease.

"She couldn't not like you if she tried," she reassured him, then seemed to become aware that she was still holding his hand and let go of it quickly. "I don't think anyone could dislike you," she continued, mouth twisting into an expression of amusement that would make anyone laugh.

Roderic let his gaze fall to the intricate carpet and swallowed, overcome with the sudden onslaught of details that had seemed fairly insignificant before, but had somehow been thrust to the forefront of his mind by Samantha.

"Don't sweat it. You two will get along fine," her smile faltered a little and she dropped her eyes, but continued on. "Just remember not to let her scare you, okay? You are intimidated by women far too easily. Just – just be –"

She stopped and Roderic lifted his eyes from the rug to see what had interrupted her. She was looking at him. He met her gaze; he saw something reflected there that he had never seen before and it scared him with its boldness.

"Just be yourself," she choked, coughing a little on what sounded suspiciously like a sob.

Roderic took a few steps back, heart thumping wildly, but still unable to break her gaze. Her slim brows met in a representation of agonized decision. She was about to say something, and Roderic was very sure that he did _not_ want to hear it, whatever it was.

"I – I will consider your advice, as always, Samantha," he said hastily, pressing his back against the wall.

She flinched like he had just physically struck her.

"You consider my advice, my lord," she said bitterly, "but you think nothing else of me. I am a curious trinket: an amusing source of quaint views."

She was now an inch from him. Roderic felt undeniably cornered.

"I am not a person to you, am I, Roderic?"

He was at an inexorable loss for words. He could not deny the claim, yet he would not want to affirm it. The fact that she used his given name totally escaped him; it sounded so natural coming from her. Any weak attempts at replies were wedged painfully in his throat by his heart, which was beating irregularly against it.

"And still, I hoped," she said softly, laying her hands on his shoulders.

The skin underneath his jerkin crawled and he tried to shove himself unobtrusively through the wall, but to no avail. She continued, possibly unaware of his discomfort.

"Then, word began to spread of your engagement. I convinced myself to abandon hope, but my heart refused to stop loving you."

Roderic, terrified eyes still trained on hers, could not even twitch. He was paralyzed with uncertainty. Part of him wanted to console her, to say whatever he needed to make her stop looking so hopeless, but another, larger part of him was screaming at him to _get out of there!_

"Samantha, I do n—mmf."

His feeble beginning of a polite excuse was stifled by Samantha's lips covering his own. Before he could even fully comprehend what was happening, he shoved her away, harder than he intended. He caught her wrist and pulled her upright before she fell over, his entire body tingling.

Her cheeks were flaming red, but she did not avoid his shocked eyes. She looked at him straight on and spoke, chin quivering.

"I'm not sorry. Didn't you feel anything?"

"You can't – we can't – cannot – even if – " he spluttered, voice steadily rising in pitch, "You cannot kiss someone who is engaged! Especially _me,_ the _prince!_" The harsh statement flew out before he could beautify it.

She stalked up to him and slapped him hard across the face.

"You have no heart," she growled. "I hope for the Princess' sake that you find one. Maybe _she'll_ be good enough for you."

She then fled the room, tears sliding down her face.

Roderic watched, cheek burning, as her black hair swished out the open doorway.

"I really am a horrible person," he muttered, still shell-shocked. "I think I just did the right thing, but why does it feel like I just ripped her apart? Why can't the right thing be more obvious, and feel better?"

His heart ached.

"The meeting!" he yelped suddenly, recalling Samantha's original reason for arriving.

He took off at a stately run through the corridors, hoping he would not be late.

* * *

**Final word count: 1628**

Lobuck: **Thanks! Yes, wars are dumb. WORLD PEACE! --cough-- erm, nothing.**

Midnight Duchess: **Glad you liked it, sorry about the goosebumps --laugh--**

'Pename here': **Thanks for reading!**

FaylinnNorse:** I'm glad you don't hate me, at any rate. The story gets better, I promise.**

Eeko: **Joseph is pretty cool, and so was Lee. I almost didn't like killing him myself...**

daring2dream: **Another long review! --cheer!-- No, Celeste and Lee don't have kids. I suppose, if you mean by 'hanging' not mentioning it in the next chapter, then yes, I left you hanging. But the next chapter is wholly devoted to that storyline again. I'm usually a fan of split chapters, but all these scenes are so darn emotional that I have to give them their own chapters. Bummer.**

Elvish Kiwi: **New reviewer! --extra slice-- I'm glad I drew you in! I suppose death and destruction is a good attention getter... About if anyone else is going to die... --zips lips--**

Clar the Pirate: **Well, SoBe stands for South Beach Beverages, so it is, in essence, a 'healthy' drink of some kind. But they're also good, at least the one I tasted. Did you want to swap them for some kind of British drink? Thanks for reviewing!**

SIMBA: **--hands tissues along with pie-- The song is one I wrote a while ago while I was bored. Heh. I'm glad it came to some use.**

Floober: **Chapter 2's: no kidding --laugh-- Here. --hands SoBe-- Chapter 3's: You'll see how it turns out soon enough. I hope you didn't drown in this one, either. Sure! Suggestions would be nice; this IS my fifty-something-th time giving out edible rewards, and one does get desperate for ideas on occasion.**

**Going with **Floober**'s idea, if you have something edible you'd like me to give away as a reward, PM me, or put it in your review, or something. It will give Cadmus more time to think of the story, and less time to think about his stomach.**

**--Cadmus grumbles--**

**Mixed berry cobbler this time 'round, with a good healthy scoop of homemade vanilla ice cream. Well, maybe it's not healthy, but it tastes good.**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Midnight Duchess**, for pointing out my typo!  
**


	5. Memories and Fathers

**6 . 9 . 07 **

**I was wrong. There's this chapter, THEN the last cliché chapter. I don't think this one's too bad. Just kind of a get-to-know-your-characters sort that fits conveniently between two cliché chapters as a nice little alley of somewhat-fresh air.**

**_READ SHOE!_ It's officially awesome, because **Lobuck **is brilliant and writes extremely well, with a plot that is well thought out, and characters that suck you in with their strikingly realistic personalities. I'm proud to call some of those characters my original creations, though her masterful hands have taken them beyond what I ever planned them to be. Now, I suppose I'll give you my story, and brace myself for the onslaught of (false) denials **Lobuck **will throw at me.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_"I always saw a kind of beauty in the spinning edge of a lethal blade – the way the blade was so balanced, so deadly. Weapons never let you down. You trained with them, you worked with them and in the end, they always struck true."_

Only Wish --Ariel32

* * *

"... poor ... hamstrung ... "

" ... piece of work ... okay?"

"Probably ... time ... healing."

"... thing I can do?"

" ... good as ... get."

Irritated that his hearing was throbbing with the pain in his leg, Jody wrenched one eye open and saw two slowly walking characters in soiled, once-white sheets that were now splattered with blood. Jody inhaled, then coughed. The air smelled like blood. He decided to close his eye and keep lying there on his stomach, blissfully ignorant of any other horrors that surrounded him.

_Where am I?_

_Oh yes. The hospital._

He vaguely remembered being carried there after some medic had proclaimed him unfit to walk. Not that he had cared. He was very detached, from both Lee's death and the immense pain that flooded his senses after the adrenaline eked out of his bloodstream.

"Jody?"

He looked around and saw Lee.

"Huh?" he said intelligently.

"Come on," Lee said. "Let's get out of here. I got a letter from Celeste and she wants us to come home."

"Oh, alright," he agreed slowly, and got out of bed.

"Hey!"

Jody snapped awake, then caught the edge of the bed in a viselike grip. He was falling off, and his leg was protesting loudly. Someone pushed him back on and knelt to look him in the eye.

"You're still healing up, soldier. Don't try and get off the bed without help, or you'll tear yourself open again."

Jody looked at the swimming face blearily.

"Wha? What happened to me? Did you amputate something?"

He tried to look over his shoulder, but couldn't see past the blanket.

"No no, you got hamstringed, and you ripped some muscle in your calf. You got shot with arrows, right?"

"Mm. I pulled them out."

The man winced.

"Not a good idea. You should have left the surgery to us."

"I guess I did a number on myself, huh?" Jody asked weakly.

The man didn't smile.

"That you did, soldier. You're going to be sent home when you're well enough to travel. Even after you're fully recovered, you'll still have a significant limp and you won't be able to keep pace with the rest of them. You can come back if we're desperate. Just keep an ear on the town criers."

Jody nodded and the man left. _Sent home? Should I send Celeste a letter right away, or tell her in person. Or is the army doing that?_

He'd have to ask someone. He dreaded telling her in person, but he had a nagging feeling the joy would be left to him, as paper was scarce on the battlefront unless you had rank enough to ask for it.

He had the strange feeling that he was sleeping again, dreams filled with shouts and clashing steel. The arrow was flying toward Lee and he tried to grab it out of midair, but he was a ghost. He saw the arrow hit again and again, the jolted look of surprised fear etched into his memory forever.

"Hey Jody, you there?"

Jody slid his eye open again and examined the person looking at him sideways.

"Lookie at that, the blacksmith survived, good job with that leg though, looks revolting."

"Joseph, if you're going to tell me how bad I look, go away," Jody mumbled.

"Well forgive me if I ducked away from my own cot to come see you," Joseph huffed.

Jody then noticed that the boy's eyes were a bit crossed and he had a large bandage strapped to his head.

"Turban," Joseph explained off-handedly, pointing at the mass of white cloth. "Thought I'd go for desert refugee and see if'n I couldn't waltz over the enemy's lines. Waddya think?"

"I think you need to help me up, because all of me is cramping up from being on my stomach for so long," Jody said. "And all of me is more than two of you, so be careful."

"All of you... two of me," Jody mused, easing Jody's legs off the bed. "I'm not sure I followed that."

"As well you shouldn't have," Jody retorted.

It felt odd to be kidding around with Joseph. He felt like he was doing something oddly familiar, but no longer right. Lee wasn't there to laugh at his jokes, or cuff Joseph on the head.

"Grab a hold of my shoulder. Careful now, if you knock that bandage off, I'll make the biggest dent in your head anyone ever has."

"If you could reach it," Jody said, almost smiling; he gripped the boy's shoulder firmly.

Joseph humphed.

"And watch that grip or I won't have an arm to hit you with."

"Better for you. If you hit me, you might just break that arm anyhow."

They made their way at a slow shuffling walk to the exit, away from the moaning and whimpering men whose unfocused eyes haunted Jody. A few of their eyes were empty, like Lee's. He shuddered and looked back out the door.

He could barely see the dust blowing from the cool winter breeze beyond the flapping tent's door. A few men ambled about, whistling or singing tunelessly.

"You wanna siddown?" Joseph asked once they were outside, looking very woozy.

"Sure," Jody replied, and they sat on a mound of dirt leftover from digging the firepit.

"This can't be hygienic," Joseph said with a careless laugh, settling in.

Jody hummed in agreement, watching the people walk around. A wisp of song caught his ear.

_"Oh once I saw a deer go by_  
_It flicked its tail and then I spied--"_

Jody's memory slipped back to a night only a week previous, when the men had been lighthearted and celebrating their first battle; there had been no losses. Everyone was singing and regaling each other with marvelous and unbelievable boasts.

_"--and you'll never guess what I caught, eh? It was a two tailed pheasant, make no mistake!" a man blustered._

_"Ah-hmm, and next ye'll be telling us of a thrice beheaded donkey that attacked ye, hm?" replied a skeptical looking man with a tricornered hat and a pipe._

_"No no, I have the double tail hangin' above me mantelpiece, ask Mathilde!"_

_"Three silver pieces all that's hangin' above his mantelpiece is a measly rack!" shouted a boy no older than eighteen._

_"Four and it's on!"_

_"I say, bad faith you lot have!" the man cried indignantly._

_"What a cheery day  
And a cheery lad  
Came askin' me  
Where 'twas his dad?"_

_"In the last raid the Philettins made on my hometown I knocked three out cold before running the leader through the heart with my granfer's walking stick!" a brown haired youth said convincingly._

_"Didja now? How exactly did you get a blunt object through his middle, riddle me that!" laughed an older man with twinkling eyes._

_"Strength born of desperation, gaffer," the youth said with a wink. _

"_For in the days of my good old gran'father  
They had but three arrows to spare,  
And they never needed those arrows so fine,  
For the aim that they had was so true!"_

_"I say now Lee, not thinking of deserting are you?"_

_The man didn't bother turning around, his eyes still fixed on the brightening east._

_"Never for my life, Jody," he murmured, clenching a strand of grass between his teeth. "I care too much for my country and my wife to desert."_

_"Good man," Jody said, relieved._

_He sat down next to Lee and pulled one of the few straggling grass tendrils from the packed earth. Jody rolled the browning green blade in his fingers for a few seconds before poking an end into his mouth._

_"Hear the army marching now,  
Gather up those who know how,  
To wield a weapon any kind,  
We fight together, of one mind!"_

_"Come on," Jody said, gripping his friend's arm. "You'll be back before you know it. The longer you stare into the horizon, the longer the time will pass. Come with me; let's wile away the evening with song and story."_

_Lee gave one last look to the east before standing._

_"You're right, of course." He spat the grass onto the ground. "Let's save the others from enduring Greoth's version of 'Forgotten Hunters'"_

_They both laughed and joined the fray, adding their voices to the quavering one belting out a favorite song. _

* * *

"Roderic, a word!" 

Roderic, who had been thinking on the compromises this last meeting had afforded (finally, three days from the wedding), stopped and waited for his aging father, King Ryone, to catch up. Ambassadors and dignitaries from Terriot bobbed their heads in a dignified fashion at the prince as they made their way back to their respective chambers.

King Gollath of Terriot, Katherine's father, caught up with Roderic before Ryone did.

"I can't express the extent of my delight, young Prince Roderic," he started, his voice overjoyed, "that you would so willingly agree to this wedding. The prospects are innumerable! Of course, it wouldn't be a terrible hardship for any man to marry my lovely daughter."

He winked.

"But you Rijhaddites are known for your iron will! I am happy that Katharine and Terriot have worked onto your favorable side."

"It is not hard at all, with such persuasive and pleasurable men that make up your Council, and with such a beauty for my prize," Roderic replied deftly.

"Good lad! Well, I must be off. I promised your prize that I would dine with her today, and I would hate to keep her waiting. A sharp tongue, she has, when one is late. Good day, Roderic, Ryone."

He bowed as Roderic's father stepped up to his side, then continued on his way down the now empty corridor.

"Yes, father?" Roderic asked, then noticed his father's somewhat vacant expression.

He was rueing the past again, no doubt. His father had recently taken to lamenting the fact that he had not taken a more active role in raising his only son. He was wont to begin fatherly ramblings about how he looked just like his mother, with his golden hair, understanding eyes, charming smile, etcetera. His nurse had told him all that before, but he still listened, trying to feel the reason behind the mood. He eventually chalked it up to the wedding, and the fact that he was moving, with Katharine, to a separate castle.

"Father?"

King Ryone jerked himself back to the situation at hand and began walking down the corridor.

"About this marriage," he started, looking at Roderic. "How do you feel about it? You know that neither your mother nor I liked the idea of an arranged marriage. We would have preferred that you got to know Katharine better before you married her."

"Father, we haven't the time for such luxuries," he reminded him. "Terriotians and Rijhaddites are dying, of war or hunger, and this simple marriage will save them."

"But still," his father pressed regretfully, "how do you feel about it?"

"I feel proud," Roderic answered, "to be able to do such a great service for my country."

Ryone pursed his lips.

"I want a genuine answer, Roderic, please. Not that pre-packaged nonsense you say at Council meetings and speeches. Something is troubling you. What is it?"

"Nothing consequential," Roderic replied nervously.

Ryone put a hand on his son's arm and looked at him. His face was an odd mixture of disappointment and grim determination.

"You have feelings for someone else. Is that it?"

"No father," Roderic said smoothly, though his countenance was troubled; Samantha's tear streaked face came to mind.

He shoved the thought resolutely away. He was engaged, and he was going to remain loyal to his commitment, even though he had the prickly feeling that the Princess could probably care less.

"...At least, I do not think so."

Ryone considered this statement for a moment.

"You are aware," he stated carefully, "that your marriage, though legally binding, is merely a title. Neither Katharine nor her father expect anything more from you than protection and fulfillment of the treaty."

Roderic looked away, unsure how to phrase his concern respectfully.

"The Council stressed the imperative nature of my apparent relationship with Katharine; if the people think we are anything less than devoted to each other, we could be dealing with civil war."

"Son, I will not have you sacrifice your happiness for this country, it is not fair. I want you to have a good life, and be happy," Ryone insisted.

"The guilt would show on my face," Roderic said, "if I am reading you correctly."

"You have nothing to be guilty about."

Roderic sighed and chewed on his lower lip. _Bad habit. You have to stop doing that,_ he told himself.

"It does not settle right with me," he said after a pause.

"Think on what I said, at least," Ryone said, and clapped him on the shoulder. He was genuinely concerned for his son, and Roderic knew it.

The king walked off, leaving Roderic to ponder.

He didn't want to cause a war, obviously, but if he handled it well... _Things like this are always found out, _he thought logically. _'Tis not worth the risk._

With that last thought, he banished further thought of it from his mind. _I am bad enough at acting, especially around women. Oh dear, I hope the Princess and I get along._ He swallowed nervously.

* * *

**Final word count: 2220**

FaylinnNorse: **Aha, you've discovered a key point in little Roddy's personality; he wants to please everyone. I'm glad you didn't think it was overdone, and I tried to make it a little different. I was originally going to have him realize that he loves her and yadda yadda, but this way fit better with his character, and it was rather funny. Poor guy. --laugh-- **

Celestial Starlight: **3's: I'm glad the battle was good. They always make me nervous to write... 4's: Alright, I'll take a look at that, and see if I can't get Cadmus to help me out. --said muse opens one eye and snorts-- Well, I'll try, anyway.**

Midnight Duchess: **--LAUGH-- I can't believe I wrote that! That's awful! I fixed it, thanks for pointing it out. I gave you a little shout out at the bottom of the page, too.**

Elvish Kiwi:** It seems like everyone is wondering what she's like. Hmmph. We'll find out in a few chapters. --secretive smile--**

Clar the Pirate:** Why thank you! It's surprising that chapter was even readable, much less well written; I was interrupted so many times mid-chapter I was about to scream. Roderic seems real? Whew, good. I can't tell you how long it took me to nail down his personality, and I was kind of worried that it would get lost in the translation from notebook to computer.**

Crayola Color Sky: **Anja! I'm glad you joined this story. --large serving of cobbler-- You'll find out about the elusive Princess Katharine soon enough. I hope you stick around!**

daring2dream: **Your reviews are always so cheering --smile-- And Samantha is a very nice, albeit perhaps too outspoken, girl. It was rather sad to have to do that to her, but it added more of the cliché foundation I was going for so I could build an original structure atop it. Your question: yes, they are. And we get to hear from the happy couple --cough-- next chapter. With my hopefully last cliché chapter. I'm glad you liked it!**

Lobuck: **It would be depressing if he loved her, wouldn't it? I'm glad it didn't sound cliché. --wipes brow and heaps on some extra ice cream--**

Floober:** Pizza Rolls? --laugh-- alright then. Yes, smacking them both sounds the most logical, good idea.**

SIMBA**: I'm glad you liked those lines. I liked them too, coincidentally or not. Especially the 'stately run' one. I hesitated with that one, then decided to stick it in there, 'cause it sounded rather in character for Roderic. Of course something interesting is going to happen! I told you this WAS NOT going to be a soap opera. Action! Adventure! Fights to the death! Kidnapping! Amputation! Well um, maybe not all of that, but something will happen. Soon.**

Emma A. Piper: **3's: I'm glad you're sad. Well, that sounds awful, I meant, I'm glad Lee was real enough that you were sad when he died, even though you hardly knew him. 4's: Samantha was a bit strong, but yes, she was desperate. And she has a very strong personality, as evidenced by the fact that she speaks her mind in front of the crown prince.**

Eeko**: Poor everyone! No kidding! I'm glad it wasn't too terribly cliché. Next chapter's bad though. Ugh.**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Midnight Duchess**, for pointing out my typos!**


	6. Deliberation

**11 . 9 . 07 **

**Here's a little bit of a side note: Katharine is pronounced (KATH-uh-rine') Notice the second A instead of the E?**

* * *

"_I don't want to marry you," she said, as blatantly as possible. There was no reason to beat around the bush. Not now._

_Drake looked slightly surprised by her pert manner, but not altogether shocked by what she had to say._

"_Well, I don't want to marry you either," he said._

_At least they had that in common. But they shared nothing else. And a mutual disagreement about their wedding wasn't the best foundation for marriage._  
Arranged --CaptainFantastic

* * *

A bright afternoon sun struggled to shine down on the soft landscape, though it was hampered in its path by cottony clouds that hid it from view. A comfortable cottage was, like its surroundings, lightly dusted with a new layer of snow. The once-cheerful garden and barren fields of corn seemed to be sleeping, waiting for the fairy of spring to gently shake them awake and whisper a song of life into their frozen limbs. 

The icy path wended its way between the hills, meandering among the slumbering fields; on this path traveled a wagon, ruggedly built and filled with men. The stocky horses plodded on, their bright eyes taking in the homely landscape.

"That's it," Jody said, spying the cottage ahead.

The burly man nodded and yanked the horses to a stop in front of it. The other soldiers groaned at the sudden stop, wincing as injured limbs were jostled or stepped on. Jody eased himself off the cart, keeping a firm hold on his bag.

A brittle wind blew around him, making his leg throb with jaw-clenching severity. As he glanced up, a face appeared in the window, then vanished. Jody loosened his grip on the cart and began the long, limping journey to the house.

Celeste threw the door open and ran through the light snow in bare feet.

"Your girl excited to see you," a few of them chuckled.

_Not mine,_ he wanted to say, but looking at the confusion on her face struck any other comments out of mind. She met him halfway, catching his elbow before he stumbled on a piece of frozen earth.

"What happened to you, are you okay?" she asked breathlessly.

Jody could hear the cart being pulled away somewhere in a different dimension.

"I'll be fine," he said, not meeting her worried eyes. He concentrated his attention instead on her hands, which were resting unconsciously on her stomach.

He blinked.

Her stomach was not the right shape for such a slim woman.

_Oh no._

"And where is Lee? Is he hurt too?" She looked over his shoulder, as if expecting him to appear at the top of the same hill she'd watched him walk over.

"He died."

Jody said it exactly as he rehearsed it: wary and sympathetic, saddened yet hesitant. A masterpiece of inflection lost on the stunned wife.

"You – are you sure?"

She was pale, but her eyes remained unconvinced.

"I saw him die," he said mechanically, and the last few moments of Lee's life flashed before his eyes again.

Predictably, her eyes began to brim over with tears.

"He never knew," she said, her voice deathly calm, though a tear rolled down her face. "He never knew. I couldn't send him a letter, because no one would go to the battlefront and no one knew where you were. And now – "

She gestured expressively at her abdomen; several more tears streaked down and sizzled holes in the snow.

"What am I going to do without him?"

Celeste began to cry in earnest now, shielding her face from view with her hands as she sunk slowly to her knees.

"I can't handle the farm – and what about the baby – without a father – oh I miss him – "

Those were the last words Jody could understand. He squatted, ignoring the wrenching pain in his leg, and wrapped his arms awkwardly around her.

"Calm down, this is not the end of the world."

_Actually, it is. But saying that will do you no good._

She cried harder into his shoulder, holding on to him like he was in danger of disappearing as well. The wind gusted and Jody realized that this woman, who was about four months pregnant, was out in the freezing weather without shoes or a jacket.

"Listen to me," he said gruffly, "we need to go inside. You'll catch your death of cold."

"What does it matter?" Celeste moaned.

Jody clenched his fist. That comment sounded eerily like one he had made to himself on many occasions since Lee died.

"Come on," he urged. "We need to talk about something."

Celeste made no motion that she had heard him. He could feel her warm tears seeping through his shirt, contrasting harshly with the wind, which now blew wisps of snow into her hair.

Mustering his willpower, Jody stood, drawing Celeste with him. The pain in his leg threw spots in front of his eyes, but he deliberately ignored it, supporting Celeste and walking toward the cottage. She cried into his sleeve, muttering unintelligibly. It seemed like eons before he shoved the door open and walked inside.

The last of his strength was used to kick the door firmly shut with his good leg, then he collapsed onto the wood flooring, releasing Celeste an instant before he did so.

Pain shot up and down his leg as he landed atop his bag; it brought a bitter taste to his mouth, but he fought it. As long as he was fighting, he could ignore the deeper pain threatening to overwhelm him again. Celeste slid down next to him, temporarily extracted from her grief because of her concern.

"Are you alright? Do you need anything?" she said thickly, sponging her face with her shirtsleeve.

He ignored her question, seizing this opportunity when she was alert to reality to propose his plan.

"Celeste. There is no way you can manage this farm yourself, nor do you have the money to hire hands and still make a profit to live on."

He paused, unsure how to delicately continue. The look on her face told him that if he waited one more second she would be gone again.

"If... if you marry me, I can move in with you and do blacksmithing from here once my leg is healed up in another week. I have enough money saved to hire hands, and the profit from the farm and smithing will help your child live well. Then, also. You would have someone to fetch the midwife when the, ah, time comes."

He breathed in, then let it out in a weary sigh. She looked stricken.

"I would not suggest this if I didn't think it was necessary."

"I – know," she said haltingly. "I don't want to do that."

"Nor I," he said flatly, feeling already as if he was betraying his friend who was hardly cold in his grave.

"But I – " she inhaled shakily and bit her lip. Another tear streamed down her cheek and plopped onto the wood floor. "I don't think I have much of a choice, do I?"

"Not unless you'd rather marry someone else," he said.

"No," she managed to force out before she collapsed in a heap, sobbing. "You're the only one – who understands."

_She doesn't have a choice, Lee_. _I'm trying to protect your wife for you. Is this what you would have wanted?_

"We – have – to get – to town, then," she gulped, words punctuated with sharp breaths. "I'll get – the horses."

"We can wait," Jody said, alarmed. He hadn't been expecting to marry her immediately. _I'm not ready for this._

She shook her head.

"P—preacher Billings is going to visit family in Ellespeth for a month and he's leaving this evening."

Celeste helped him to his feet and pulled on a sweater, then hesitated before handing him Lee's heavy coat. Jody left his bag sitting in the entryway floor and made his way out through the rushing wind in the direction of the barn. Celeste walked faster than he did, and when he arrived, she was almost done hitching up the horses to the cart.

A few minutes later, they were on their way to town.

* * *

"How do I look?" 

Roderic showcased the magnificent tuxedo; his servant and friend, Johnathon, laughed quietly.

"Fabulous, of course."

"Tell me again what I am supposed to do once we leave the church?"

Roderic knew what he was supposed to do, but he was trying to distract himself from the matter at hand. He was about to be married.

"Walk seven paces, then bow. It will show your esteem for the people. They, in turn, will bow, and wish you long life. After they have bowed, you and the Princess will make your way on to the carriage," Johnathon explained.

"Seven paces, very good. Thank you." He bit his lip nervously.

"Prince Roderic, they are waiting for you," a servant announced, opening the door.

"Very well," Roderic said, the easy words not totally hiding his apprehension.

"You will be magnificent. Repeat what the priest says and don't worry," Johnathon said as Roderic exited.

Roderic was led around the back of the sanctuary through a series of narrow corridors. He was then directed to the correct door that would take him directly onto the platform. He hesitated in opening the door.

_Are you ready for this?_

He was ready for the alliance, ready to keep people from dying, but, as a man, was he ready to marry this woman?

_No,_ he decided, and opened the door.

* * *

**Final word count: 1507**

**Too dramatic? Too angsty? Too irritating? Is Roderic getting on your nerves? Opinions!**

**Pizza rolls, all ye reviewers! --hands them out--**

Celestial Starlight: **Roderic makes you queasy? Because he's such an irritating little bugger? Actually, he's quite sweet, I think, but he needs his priorities in order. Sorry to say, but I'm no master of suspense. You probably won't find a whole lot of it in here, a least not near the beginning, sadly. The journey is a long one, and I'm not exactly sure where I'm going either. A Masterpiece? Hardly.**

Clar the Pirate:** --laugh-- no, he's not alive. I'm telling you, it's not going to happen. Oh, I was thinking the rack of a deer. The antlers; you call it a rack.**

FaylinnNorse: **Roderic is a bother to write, but he's such a sweetie! ****Patience is a virtue, dear readers. You will meet Katharine when the time is right. Yes, Lee's death is really hard on poor Jody, but Joseph at least pulls him out of wallowing in it most of the time. Incorrigible lad! --laugh--**

Midnight Duchess: **Thanks for pointing out the typos (again)! Yeah, my mind works that way too, but it's harder to spot when I write it, because I know what I meant to say. I want to hug Roderic too, drat it!**

SIMBA**: Dads rock. Celeste will come into her own without much help from me, just keep reading. --smile--**

Floober:** --scoops Pizza rolls onto your plate-- enjoy! Sorry you're lost! Is it the names of people? Roderic and Katharine are a prince and princess engaged to be married. Samantha loves Roderic, which puts a kink in things. Lee and Celeste were married. Lee died. Jody, Lee's best friend is now going to marry Celeste for her own good. Make sense now?**

daring2dream**: Yeah, poor Jody. --sniffle-- This is better than a soap? Well, I suppose that's a good thing. I hope I have more plot and less... nastiness than a soap.**

**Anything that sounded like it came from **Love Comes Softly **was purely accidental. Disclaimer to that, I suppose?**

**Godiva © chocolates to reviewers! Chocolate covered strawberries to speculators!**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Clar the Pirate**, for pointing out my typos!**


	7. Back to the Beginning!

* * *

**16 . 9 . 07 **

**I have a surprise for you. Well, _you_ meaning all of you reading this that have read Nasap, at any rate. Remember Chapter 35? The one where you finally figure out everything that's going on? Yeah, you're shuddering, I know. That was a pretty awful chapter, as **ElvishKiwi** so delicately (or not) reminded me recently. Her concrit struck Cadmus' conscience, something I've never been able to access, and I actually rewrote it, shock of shocks. So, if you read Nasap, I'd really really appreciate it if you reread that chapter and dropped a line. Thank you!**

**As for this chapter, have fun with Katharine.**

* * *

_"Well, that was one of the most awkward things I've ever done. Okay, maybe not quite, but what was up with that? I get tongue-tied with the pizza delivery guy? I'm not exactly the social queen, but I'm not stunted either. What on Earth did I get all flustered for? _

_Of course, if this was a movie, it would be because I had suddenly discovered a deep and burning passion in my heart for this tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, prince-in-disguise. Yeah. Like that's happening._

_Cullen's car grumbled out of the driveway, strobing headlights over the front of the house._

_Honestly, I refuse to develop even a small crush on the boy just because we locked eyes a few times. Life doesn't really happen like that. Not to anyone, and especially not to me._

_I'm just not that gullible anymore._

_And furthermore, I have long gotten over the habit of harboring unrequited love for a guy. It sounds all fine and well in romantic old stories, but in real life, it pretty much sucks._

_I'm not going to do it. So there._

_Besides, I think I have a few bigger problems at the moment. Like figuring out how not to be any more of a freak than I apparently already am. I mean, good grief, I must be worse than I thought, because he practically ran---_

_Focus. Crazy spontaneous tattoos. Evasion of the inquisitive mother. Prevention of total insanity. Priority re-arrangement is definitely needed."_

Green Awakening --Verdant Wings

* * *

The pair stood in front of the church, waiting a few moments before their descent. The ceremony was, blessedly, over. Roderic couldn't remember half of it. He was quite preoccupied avoiding the eyes of his future – _no, my wife, now. How strange._

Roderic offered his arm and the princess took it without looking at him; the weight of a lady's arm was quite familiar to him, but her arm seemed to be made of hot iron! He almost twitched away, but caught himself at the last moment.

_Do not do that, Roderic,_ he reprimanded himself. _Get a firm hold on your reactions._

He smiled as convincingly as he could, given the fact that he was now welded to this person on his arm, and walked fast enough so no one would, hopefully, notice. The beautiful woman flicked him a glare and he slowed a little, feeling the heat from his arm rise to his cheeks.

Successfully navigating through the doors, they waved and smiled their way into the festive and unusually balmy courtyard of the church. The Princess seemed to soak up the raucous cheers, stars in her eyes growing brighter as she delicately waved with her free arm.

_Look at all those people! The whole of Terriot and Rijhad must have traveled here._

The wedding was being held in the Terriotian city of Deniel, where the country's famed cathedral was located. It was near the Rijhad border, a mere hour's ride from their temporary residence just inside Rijhad. A glorious castle was being constructed that straddled the border, as evidence of their lasting alliance, but heavy rains earlier in the year had delayed its completion for another two months.

The princess stopped gently, but Roderic wasn't expecting it. He almost ran into her, halting his feet a fraction of an inch from her spotless white slippers. She gave him another pointed look.

_The bow to the people!_ he exclaimed inwardly, joining her as she curtsied to the large crowd. The people bowed roughly back.

"Long live Prince Roderic! Long live Princess Katharine!" they shouted in a hodgepodge of voices, raising tankards, bottles, and small children aloft to knock joyfully against each other.

Roderic and the Princess took a few more steps and reached the dazzlingly white carriage. Roderic helped her elegantly make her way onto the vehicle before clambering in himself.

There was a moment where they just looked at each other. Roderic had the stinging thought that now would be the perfect time to say something witty before they leaned out their respective windows to wave at the people, but the moment passed before he could conjure anything remotely interesting.

Katharine nodded a little, though Roderic wasn't sure exactly why, and turned to her own window. Roderic quickly followed suit. Small girls clumsily waving handkerchiefs sang the Rijhaddite anthem brightly, waving furiously at Roderic and giggling madly. Roderic waved and smiled, and one girl nearly fainted.

"_He smiled at me mother! Isn't he just dashing?"_

Roderic wasn't sure he overheard the statement correctly, but his attention was soon arrested by an old man roaring his congratulations and saluting with a shaky hand. Roderic saluted smartly back, then waved at a few boys whose eyes were shining with admiration at the sleek horses.

The carriage passed a gaggle of young women who were waving their handkerchiefs gracefully. Another smile and wave for them. An older lad put his arm around the waist of one of the girls and glowered at him. The girl was blushing, smiling in Roderic's direction.

_I'm going to have to talk to her soon, _he thought with anxiety. _We're almost through the city._

They wheeled through more crowds, shouting and celebrating the momentous occasion. Old women called out their blessings, men thundered their thanks, little children were scolded when they tried to run under the carriage, and Roderic weathered it all bravely. He kept the smile situated on his face, though when looking at them, it wasn't so hard. Pure joy was simply too contagious.

Finally, he found himself facing trees only, the noise of the city trailing behind them. _Suave. Refined. Royal. Commanding,_ he reminded himself, turning his attention to the beautiful but chilled lady sitting across from him. She was, rightfully he supposed, irritated at him for his less than perfect performance. _But, one good comment should set her aright and smooth her ruffled feathers,_ he reasoned. Though, he noticed that she appeared to be in good spirits.

_Well, that will make this easier. You can do this. Be calm. Be elegant. Be lordly._

_Alright. You can do this._

"So, uh, I am Roderic," he said awkwardly, holding out his hand.

She blinked, obviously taken aback, then her dark eyes nearly frosted over in their increased iciness, though her face remained impassive. Roderic almost bashed his head against the wall behind him.

_Did I just say that?! _he wailed mentally. _What happened to suave and refined, Roderic?_

"Katharine," she said frostily, and gripped the tips of his fingers for a brief moment.

"I do not know much about you, milady," his mouth continued, despite the furious roadblock his mind was trying to lay down.

The glaringly obvious statement reverberated painfully in the enclosed space.

"Nor I, you, milord," she countered, the very picture of respect.

He couldn't think of anything to say to repair the damage he had inflicted on their first real conversation, so he kept his peace, staring out the window as if fascinated by the unfamiliar countryside.

He was not supposed to be intimidated by women. Much less, a woman he had legal authority over. But her dark eyes scared him. He couldn't read past her perfect mask unless _she_ willed it. She was the one who held the power here.

The ride was silent. Katharine, seemingly unperturbed, stared intently out the window at the slowly changing countryside. After he had sufficiently calmed his jarred thoughts, he began trying to devise all the ways to start an intelligible conversation he could think of.

So far, they all sounded pointless, even in his head.

"Do I not please you, milord?" Katharine said suddenly, swiveling her attention to him.

Her face appeared genuinely serious, as if she _was _actually intent on discovering the answer, even though the question sounded facetious. Her dark eyes penetrated his and he was at an utter loss for words.

"My lady? He asked, bewildered.

She gestured at herself with her daintily gloved hands.

"Is my appearance not to your preference?"

"Of course it is, my lady," he said, still confused.

When she said nothing, merely looked at him, he added a more definitive post-script.

"You look breathtaking."

The effort it took to force the statement out of his mouth went unappreciated by the woman who just nodded, as if expecting that response.

"Most would say so, yes. But, if you agree, why do you not look at me? You say nothing at all to me, gazing out the window as if you cannot abide to lay your eyes upon me. Have I angered you?"

A carefully measured strain of irritation threaded through her words, never enough to be disrespectful, but enough to be clearly noted. She was a master at her game, and he was a lowly pawn, to be manipulated.

And at the moment, he couldn't think of any way to break out of his position.

"No, my lady, I am distracted. Forgive me."

The statement reeked of submission, and the Princess almost smirked.

"I am sure."

He was thankfully saved from the plummeting conversation when they arrived at the castle.

"My lady, the castle Meilleur," he said, waving toward the window.

She shifted closer to his window and looked out with eagerness, feigned or genuine he couldn't be sure.

Roderic examined her expertly set mask, looking for a weakness. But no – her face was a frighteningly honest expression of interest as her eyes roved over the approaching castle.

_Was her happiness in the town forced as well? _ He wondered, recalling images of her flawless visage. _I would like to think it was natural. One would think she would have to love her people a great deal if she agreed to marry such a buffoon._

* * *

"Wait, what!?" 

Jody looked at the preacher with alarm.

"You may now kiss the bride," Preacher Billings repeated with a frown. "I hardly think my statement was confusing, Master Flannlin."

Celeste and Jody looked at each other for a moment.

"That cannot be necessary," Jody declared.

"I assure you, if you wish this to be a well and true legally binding wedding, it most certainly is."

"Why?" Jody asked, aghast and fumbling for any way out of it.

_By the heavens, her cheeks are still wet with tears shed for Lee! I can't do that._

"Because that is the law. I have already, against my better judgment, agreed to wed you without a ring, Jody. And I only agreed to that because you have given me your word that you will acquire one as soon as possible, and we cannot delay this long enough to wait for it. This, however, is perfectly possible. Now, I really must be off to Ellespeth, so are you going to marry the gel or not!"

Jody clenched his fists and turned to look at Celeste again. She smiled in what she obviously thought was an encouraging manner, though she looked more like a scarecrow that had gotten caught in a thunderstorm.

He bent and kissed her quickly. He wanted to throw up.

_I just kissed Celeste. I just kissed Lee's wife. Oh golly..._

"Let's go," Celeste said shakily, unconsciously brushing her mouth against her sleeve. "Thank you, Preacher Billings."

"I am truly sorry for your loss, Celeste," the man replied softly. "And Jody, you are doing the noble thing. Thank you."

They both nodded, then exited the small chapel and made their way to the cart, which was tethered to a pole by the roadside.

_I cannot believe what I just did, _he thought numbly, stomach churning.

"Wait," he said jerkily, stopping beside the carriage. "I need to arrange for William to deliver my blacksmithing equipment – he has a stronger cart to haul up the heavy things."

Celeste looked like she was steeling herself for battle.

"Alright then." She swallowed. "Oh goodness, I don't think I could bear him asking – about..."

"You can wait in the cart, if you wanted," he offered.

She shook her head, blinking back several tears.

"I'll come with you."

"I'll answer William if he asks," Jody assured her.

Bravely keeping herself from another fit of sobs, she walked beside Jody, putting a cautionary hand on his arm in case he needed more support. The wind gusted, blowing clouds over the sun which had only a few minutes ago been shining brilliantly.

They were almost to William's weaving shop when Jody felt Celeste's hand trembling. Looking warily at her, he found that she wasn't crying, but shivering. Her sweater's knit did not hold the wind at bay.

"Here, wear this," he said, taking off Lee's jacket and resting it around her shoulders.

"Jody! Look lively now and come in where it's warm!" William called, throwing his door open.

Celeste was struggling with the buttons when they entered, her head down.

"You're back, I see, and brought a lady friend with you. Who – "

Celeste lifted her head and looked at him with an expression that pleaded him not to ask.

"Where's Lee?" he asked slowly. "Is he hurt?"

"He – he didn't make it," Jody said shortly.

William's eyes flicked between the pair, Celeste looking haggard and tear-worn, and Jody looking stoic and almost defiant. The weaver had suspicions, but he wanted confirmation.

"What brings the two of you here?"

The unasked question hung heavily in the air. Jody braced his mind to explain everything, thinking quickly the best way to say it without exciting rumors of any ill sort.

Celeste beat him to it.

"Jody and I have gotten married," she said quietly. "Could you bring Jody's equipment to the cottage?"

William's face darkened.

"You agreed to this, Celeste?"

Celeste, who obviously didn't hear the malicious undertone, nodded. William looked at Jody with an expression of such disgust that Jody wanted to punch him.

"For the child," he explained, but the damage was done.

"I'll bring it up," William said, turning to Celeste. "And Celeste? If you need help, don't hesitate to come to town. Hallie and I would be more than happy to assist."

"No, William, you misunderstand," she said, unable to miss the blatant jab.

Jody could see the light of understanding switch on behind her big green eyes, and now she was desperate to correct her blunder.

"He's only – we got married because of the child, really," she said earnestly.

"Maybe we can talk _later,_ Celeste," William said pointedly.

"William – "

"Good day, Mr. And Mrs. Flannlin," William shot at Jody, giving the man a darkly significant look.

Knowing words would be useless at this point, Jody bit down hard, imprisoning his tongue safely inside his mouth. He said nothing, but opened the door for Celeste who was beginning to cry again.

"One word of anything ill and I'll have all the honest men in this town at your doorstep," William said menacingly, loud enough for only Jody to hear.

Jody stormed out of the shop and toward the cart, too angry to notice his complaining leg, which had been through quite a lot for one day.

"Jody, I'm so sorry," Celeste panted, jogging to keep pace with his long stride.

"Nothing we can do now," he said sharply, and ignored Celeste's hand, climbing onto the cart without assistance.

She pulled herself in lightly and began to drive the cart back to the cottage.

The escapade with William went far worse than he had been hoping. Now all the men in town would not want to do business with him, even if he talked 'til he was blue in the face.

_I have willing clients in Albertte, though. I just need to get there and explain myself before someone else does._

He imagined William telling the carpenter, baker, butcher, and other honorable men how Jody, that fine man, had turned to base treachery and killed his best friend so he could force Celeste to marry him.

"_What a loathsome man!" he could hear the housewives tutting. "If only Lee would have known."_

What he wouldn't give for Lee to have known and told him exactly what he wanted done.

_Maybe I should have hired a maid, and sent money. She could have helped with the baby... but she'd be no use if the Philettins raided again. And I wouldn't want to leave two women with a bunch of farm hands. If a fight gets started – no. There was no other way._

_Was there?_

The doubts and snowflakes assailed him, whipping around in circles and trying to ingrain themselves into his very soul.

* * *

**Final word count: 2,493**

**Did you want to punch Roderic, or just shake your head sadly? What did you think of Katharine? **

ElvishKiwi: **I promise that everyone has a happy ending. I cannot abide stories without at least satisfying endings. No, the war is not over. He got sent home, because he wouldn't be able to keep up with the others. If you want to read more about the war, and cool general/soldier stuff, read "A Soldier at His Own Expense" which is a fantastic story by **Lobuck** that covers the war in more detail, from a different perspective. And she actually has a character like that, I think. You'd like it. I love ideas. Keep it up! --gives chocolates nicely--**

Midnight Duchess: **No typos? --cheer!-- Yes, conspiracies are the spice of life. --wicked grin-- Whoopsie, I hope you weren't late! But here's a question; would your teacher believe you if you blamed it on an author_ess_ named Billi?**

FaylinnNorse**: No, don't be sympathetic to Roderic. I quite agree that there is an overabundance of arranged marriage fics in circulation at present, and I wouldn't be writing this at _all_ if I wasn't so irritated with their cliché twists and other such things that make me pound my fists on the desk in frustration! Wow, ranting in a review reply. Sorry. Here, have the chocolate covered strawberries. --embarrassed smile-- Johnathon is groovy. He gets better, too.**

Clar the Pirate:** Troubadour? Hm. --Cadmus begins sketching wildly-- Well, you got him interested, anyway. Yes, the 'he thought' was awful, I totally forgot to take it out. You'll find a happy little shout out at the end of chapter 6 just for you. Thanks! --chocolate covered strawberry for speculation and a s'more for being pedantic-- That descriptive paragraph there was taxing. Icy dread aside, I'm glad it was a good harbinger for the tragedy.**

GeminiAngel236: **Thanks for reviewing! I hope you stick around! --chocolate covered peanuts for being a first-time reviewer--**

Celestial Starlight: **--laugh-- You are so poetic in your reviews sometimes. Sickeningly curious. Nice wording. Hm, perhaps that is suspense, of a kind. I'll have Cadmus chew on that one. Understandable about Roderic; you lot don't know him very well, do you? Well, that will come in time. You needn't worry about me finishing; I shall finish, I promise.**

Lobuck: **I know, I love that quote! THANKS again, **CaptainFantastic**! Heh, are you sure it's not angsty? I was rather fond of that line myself, and I'm glad someone picked it out. --smile--**

shadowinRW**: I'm glad you're enjoying it! Thanks for reviewing; I hope you stick around!  
**

Emma A. Piper**: Actual tears!? Wow, I feel like a decent writer sometimes. --big smile-- If you hate and love me both, does that equal out to indifferent? Thanks for reviewing!  
**

**And what reward for this, I wonder? Cadmus? --muse glares sull****enly, then reveals a realistic portrait of a Friendly's Sundae-- Oh, yum. Sure, sounds good. Extra hot fudge or caramel if you speculate.**

**EDIT: Thank you, **FaylinnNorse**, for pointing out my error!  
**


	8. All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter

**22 . 9 . 07**

**I'm back! I'm in the process of braving flying paper as I type this, and I don't have time to type this chapter, but it's been too long. So, here I am. It would have been up far sooner, but I've spent the better part of the last two hours (that I didn't have to spare) working on my own piece of fiction. **

**Those of you who have one of those will understand. The rest of you, I'm truly sorry. I hope this chapter will make up for its own tardiness? Actually, I don't think so, because it's fairly dull. Filler chapters: ugh. It has one thing in its favor, however; we see more of Katharine.**

**By the by, all the stories I'm quoting are ones that I've read and recommend, unless I state otherwise.**

* * *

_"The houses and buildings got less dazzling the further out I got, but were still clean and somehow more appealing than the grand mansions and sprawling estates. Here the dwellings seemed somehow more in harmony with each other, like parts of a whole, coexisting instead of jostling with each other for attention like the nobles' houses."_

Golden Apples of the Sun --higleysaurus

* * *

"It is well enough," Katharine said, looking at the palace. 

Roderic could catch a hint of displeasure in her words.

"It is a temporary home," he reminded her, leaning forward to see it better out the window. "What of it offends you?"

She turned her head and looked at him, face hardly six inches from his own, and frowned. He drew back slightly.

"It is not aesthetically pleasing," she said after a brief pause. "That shade of grey makes it look like a homely boulder in the midst of an unkempt meadow. The colors of the flowers are arranged by a dunce; complimentary colors should be placed next to each other."

Roderic was not prepared for this sort of criticism. He was expecting comment on the meager size or apparent age, that it was too exposed or too sheltered, not a lecture on color scheme.

"I will talk to the gardener about the flowers," he said, recovering himself admirably. "I am sure a thorough scrubbing of the walls would also be arranged. I seem to remember that these walls were once a fairly bright grey, nearly white."

She held his eyes, then looked out the window.

"As you said, this is a temporary home. It would hardly be worth the effort to make it look nice for the two months we will have residence here."

"It would be worth it if it made you smile," he ventured, feeling reckless for once. He wanted to see the facade crack.

The princess looked at him like he was a dirty handkerchief.

"You will find that I am not easily swayed by pretty words," she said lightly, though perhaps with a carefully applied tint of disgust.

Roderic blushed.

"That was not my intent, I assure you," he said, fumbling his words and vowing never to do anything so rash again.

She nodded her head deferentially, appearing still a cool and collected lady who knew her place. When her attention was elsewhere, he let out a stifled sigh.

_Good start, Roderic. She hates you already. Wonderful._

The woman unnerved him, that much he knew. She was a constant picture of elegant politeness, loosing her subtle bite while keeping the appearance of lightheartedness. She was a master at her game. Roderic swallowed, making up his mind to talk to Johnathon as soon as they arrived. He had no idea how to move his piece.

* * *

Jody and Celeste lived the next few days in a fog, not really speaking to each other. They were both occupied with their own thoughts and memories. Jody's leg continued to heal, and he began to entertain thoughts of going to Albertte, now that he felt more independent. He didn't want to drag Celeste into public again, as she was just barely holding herself together at home. 

She had almost lost it entirely when William arrived with Jody's equipment. While Jody was arranging things in his new forge, William talked with her for a few moments. When Jody appeared back on the scene, Celeste looked on the verge of losing her faculties.

"_Won't you just believe me, William!" she shouted at him._

"_Why are you defending him!" William shot back._

Jody intervened, and the man had stormed away, repeating his earlier threat. It had taken twenty minutes to get Celeste back to a semi-normal state, while quelling the urge to ride after William and clout him soundly.

After Jody reminded her that she shouldn't be out in the cold unless she had to, she relented to his going at last. He packed his bag for a day in town, taking with him a list of things Celeste needed.

He mounted Brady, patting the agreeable horse and nickering in his ear. The gelding trotted obligingly toward Albertte, twenty miles in the opposite direction of the weaver.

It took over an hour to reach the bustling town, and when he did, he felt normal again. As he passed the familiar shops and waved at the familiar people, he almost forgot that he was a married man whose best friend had died. Riding up the street on a borrowed horse, small bag dangling from the saddle; it was just like he had come to Albertte many times before to deliver a few horseshoes or nails, and solicit his blacksmithing.

This time, however, he had a different purpose. One that looked hopeful, as everyone was calling out to him and greeting him cheerily, not looking at him like he was a wild animal or disgusting criminal. He decided to stop at the Tobias the Goldsmith's shop first, and ask after a ring. The goldsmith was a kind man, and was sure to believe him. His wife was also a renowned gossip, which would ensure that the sad tale would be well known across the city in a day or so.

He dismounted with a grimace of pain, as his leg was still tender, and tethered Brady to the post in front of Tobias' shop. With a parting pat, he braced himself once more to relate the news and pushed the door open.

"Jody!" Tobias cried, putting a jewel down at once and removing the monocle from his eye. "You've returned! Are you well? They're only sending home the wounded." He examined Jody quickly with concern.

"I am healing," Jody replied, "but they say I'll always have a limp."

Tobias looked disheartened, as if Jody had informed the goldsmith that _he_ would always have a limp.

"That's a tough strain of luck," he sighed, "but it could've been worse, I suppose. What of Lee?"

Jody told him the story from start to finish, leaving nothing out. It seemed to become easier the more he said it; as if by spreading the tale, he was making it less true. As expected, the man was distraught. He grasped Jody's hand with tears in his eyes.

"What a good lad, may he rest in peace. You did the honorable thing, Jody, though not many would have had the courage to follow through with it. Send my condolences to that angel of a girl, would you?"

"Thank you," Jody said, "I will. Could you help me?"

"Anything at all, Jody," Tobias said fervently.

"I – I don't want to tell this to a hundred people," he said. "Could you make sure that everyone hears about it?"

"I could think of doing no less," Tobias said, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Maryann and I will be sure that everyone knows. Is there anything else I can do?"

Jody told him of his need for a ring, and Tobias immediately rummaged through his storecases for a suitable band. When he found one that would fit, he insisted that Jody take it for free.

"Consider this my parting salute to Lee," he said firmly, refusing to take the money.

A few more minutes of useless arguing made Jody relent, and he left then, informing Tobias that he was working from the cottage now, and to send any business there.

He then haggled the markets, ate his small lunch, and went back to the cottage laden with bundles. He bought a small trinket for Celeste, too, in hopes it would cheer her up a little. He had spied the ceramic horse while walking to the milliner's, and bought it straight away. It looked exactly like Lacey, but for a white streak in its mane, and it looked like it was running at a full gallop far away from anything painful. So, he had bought it, and it was tucked in Lee's coat now. He could feel its tiny hooves pressing into his chest, and thought wistfully of galloping away from everything on a majestic horse. But his place was at home now, taking care of his new family. A thought struck him.

_I'm going to practically be a father. Good golly._

He let out a puff of air, watching it turn to fog and whisk away into the setting sun.

* * *

**Final word count: 1328**

**Is Jody getting agsty? Is the whole thing melodramatic? Is Roderic annoying you with his jumpiness? Is Katharine irritating you with her... Katharine-ness?  
**

FaylinnNorse**: What else is a small town to do if not spread rumors? Yes, that is awful. Thankfully, as you saw here, he made it to Albertte before the well-meaning William did. Ah, you are right. I shall fix that, and give you a little shout out at the bottom. Thanks! Katharine is so much fun, and Roderic isn't generally awkward, unless you put him in an awkward situation. Then he goes haywire. --pats Roderic comfortingly-- That quote made me laugh when I first read it, and I knew it would work well with this chapter. --extra hot fudge on sundae--**

GeminiAngel236: **I had that idea one day, and it stuck. I'm glad you like it!**

Midnight Duchess: **You should try it, and then get back to me. Uh oh, ex-boyfriend? --Roderic looks freaked out--**

Emma A. Piper: **He's in a mess indeed. And Katharine is cold, and quite unlikeable, as you see more in this chapter.**

Celestial Starlight: **Oh, well then, add it to your favorites if you like it so much, gracious! And the desire is coming through, excellent. This isn't exactly soon, but not exactly late either. Good enough? --laugh-- It's my destiny, is it? --hands tissue-- Don't cry.**

Clar the Pirate:** A featherduster? Never thought of that. Hm. --Cadmus taps a pencil against his nose-- And Samantha at the palace, you say? I have already considered that, actually. Yes, Roderic is a sweetie, he really is. I love the poor guy. Heh, retract all you want, but Cadmus is still sketching. Even if he doesn't bring them together, the cheeky fellow might still show up later. Horrible townsfolk indeed. --extra large sundae for speculation and analyzation--**

daring2dream: **I'm glad you reviewed this chapter! Jody and Celeste definitely have it tough, but they'll scrape through somehow or another. --laugh-- You should jump into the story and tell Roderic what you told me, maybe it'll help. You were happy with the people too? That's spectacular! Oh, no, I never said why they were fighting. Basically, Philettin is almost always at war with someone. They're a very abrasive people. They started raiding the borders of Rijhad, burning and stealing and killing. The Terriotians responded in turn, raiding the Philettin towns and generally getting revenge. After some diplomatic conferecnes that had no effect whatsoever on the mounting death toll, both countries declared war.**

ElvishKiwi: **No kidding, you'd think that he could find something better to say. But, then he wouldn't be Roderic, bless him. As for Jody and Celeste: vicious circles are no fun, and practically inescapable. --tear-- I see that you read SHOE, though, and liked it! Awesome!**

SIMBA**: Yes, yes, read all above replies for comments on how awful Jody and Celeste's situation is, and how awful that conversation was between Katharine and Roderic. I'm running out of time (is that possible when you already didn't have time in the first place?) so I can't elaborate much. Here, take some more hot fudge as a condolence --adds creamy goodness to sundae and hands it over--**


	9. Carving

**2 . 10 . 07**

_**Welcome back to **_**A Day in the Life Of a Jumpy Prince****_, where Roderic desperately tries to win the all-Rijhadite men's high jump record! His secret weapon? His new wife! Learn more..._**

**Disclaimer: Leapfrog-boy is mine. I borrowed Vizzini's favorite word, however, and I promise to return it when I'm finished.**

* * *

"Solitude is playing dangerously close to the end of my self, and I'm begging for rescue. 

_Will you come find me?"_

Isolation --foolish-sage

* * *

Roderic excused himself shortly after arriving at the palace, leaving Katharine to the attention of the servants who were only too happy to give her a tour at her request. He made his way to the library, sitting down in a warm, red velvet armchair before the fire. 

Fantastical scenes of myth and glory were scattered around the room, imprisoned in gilded frames. Maidens were captured forever in an eternal aura of helplessness, and dragons ceaselessly breathed tongues of flame at brave princes who would never move. The firelight flickered softly, illuminating the bookshelves behind him in a friendly glow.

He took a few deep breaths to calm his erratically beating heart, and tried to find out where he had gone wrong with Katharine.

"You are such a dunce," he scolded himself. "How could you possibly have wasted every single etiquette lesson you know by spewing nonsense like that? Inconceivable! 'My name is Roderic,' indeed. Your full name was just recited to her twice during the ceremony, not to mention the time of your betrothal, and one would be unlikely to forget something as common as Roderic, to be sure. Pathetic. You have lost this one, Roderic. A first impression can never be altered."

He stood and began to walk down the row of books, running his fingers gently along the spines. Leather, cloth, wooden shelf and parchment skidded under his fingertips easily, giving a soothing pattern to his agitated mind. He continued to walk, lulled by the earthy smell of ancient tomes, and contemplated further. The wood of the shelf was smooth, and Roderic considered that it had been carved expertly, for the flawless shelves gave way to ornate patterns on the end of the bookshelf.

_Much like one would shape one's life,_ he thought, _with a practiced hand and detailed tools, making every swirl symmetrical yet effortless in its beauty. To achieve a goal, one would sketch and plan, then carefully scrape a shadow of the pattern on the wood itself before continuing, to be sure it fit with the rest of the piece. Then, scraping away layer after layer with painstaking patience, you reap the reward. _

_Patience, Roderic. You must have patience!_

Eventually, his self-beratings gave way to calm planning and, when he left the library over an hour later, he was very much more at peace with himself.

* * *

When Jody got home, he saw that Celeste has just finished a good cry. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and her nose was running in a way that she couldn't fully blame on the cold. 

"I got something for you," he said awkwardly, pulling out the horse, but keeping it hidden in his massive hand.

"Really?"

She looked curious and her eyes sparkled a little, the way everyone's do when they receive an unexpected surprise.

"Here," he said, turning his hand and gently dropping the porcelain figure into her outstretched hands.

Her eyes widened and she ran her finger along the glossy mane.

"Oh Jody, this is beautiful! It looks just like Lacey, except – "

"– the white in the mane. That's what I thought too."

"Thank you," she said, curling her fingers protectively around it. She looked like she was tearing up again.

"You're welcome," he said, and walked into the kitchen to put his groceries away.

Later, he stumbled over his blanket folded neatly on the floor next to his pillow, and found the horse perched on the shelf in their room.

Their room. He was still getting used to that.

The horse stood proudly, ready to bolt, in between a dried flower from Celeste's wedding bouquet and a little carving he had done for her on a knobbly stick when they were seven. She actually thought Lee had done it, and Jody was singularly proud of one of the only secrets he successfully kept regarding himself. He was a proud little boy, and liked everyone to know of his accomplishments. He had been quick to correct them if they attributed something he did to anyone else.

Nevertheless, when Lee had come to him on Valentine's day all those years ago, panicked and holding a beheaded stick, he had seen the desperation in Lee's eyes well enough to keep quiet. Lee had worked all day carving something for Celeste, and had accidentally slipped and cut off the figurine's head an hour before the town dance when he was going to give it to her.

Jody laughed at the memory. As a boy, he was much better than Lee in woodworking, and quickly agreed to copy Lee's work up to the head where he'd stopped. It had only taken him about an hour to imitate and entire day's worth of Lee's devoted efforts. His grateful friend then completed the carving of a girl holding a daisy and presented it to a blushing Celeste later that evening while Jody bounced on the balls of his feet. He worked hard, restraining the urge to shout that _he _had done it, and didn't it look _fantastic!?_

He reached out and lifted it off the shelf, examining it closely. It was obviously the work of inexperienced children, and you couldn't really tell what it was supposed to be unless you already knew what it was. He fingered the girl's crooked foot, remembering how hard it had been to force the knife through the knot, and how proud he had been of it. Shaking his head, he replaced the figure, steadying it to be sure that it wouldn't topple and knock the horse off the shelf.

Celeste appeared at his side and leaned her head against him, harboring a little tired sigh that he was sure he wasn't supposed to hear. He automatically put his arm around her and they stood as they had on many other occasions. This was normal. Here was a breath of normality, and not that fake, foreboding kind like in town today. This was a genuinely natural thing. She had often come to him to vent or ramble, and they always ended their conversations in this position. His arm fit perfectly around her, and her head had made its own little place just under his ribs. Friends. Forever. Through thick and thin. Right?

_But now, we're a little more than friends. _

_Isn't a good marriage based on strong friendship?_

_Yes, but not all friends should be married._

_But it helps..._

_There are other factors too. And I could never replace Lee._

They weren't merely friends, they were married now. Surely Lee had comforted Celeste in a similar manner when their first cottage burned down, or her favorite kitten died in the frost. Suddenly, the scene was less familiar. It was tainted by death, just like everything else.

* * *

**Final word count: 1120**

**More philosophical thoughts from Jody --sarcasm-- And Roderic, actually, as well. Is Jody doing too much reminiscing and/or doubting? Is it too descriptive? Not enough? --singing-- Roddy was a bullfrog...**

SIMBA**: Yay! You're first! (for once) --laugh--**

Celestial Seraphim: **T****wist? Wait, I'm supposed to have one of those? --Cadmus rolls his eyes long sufferingly-- I'm only joking, of course. There's a twist. Eventually. Somewhere. You like Katharine and Roderic? Congratulations. That's a feat. I see Katharine as an almost Mr. Darcy-esque character, only less awesome, as a random bit of trivia. The **_**book **_**Mr. Darcy, not the movie Mr. Darcy. In the movie, he's far too loveable to be Mr. Darcy. Anyway, enough rambling about one of the best books of all time and onto the rest of the review; you can guess, that's okay. Even if you have no idea. Wild flights of fancy are good for the soul and they provide Caddy with fodder for either this story or others. You can keep the hanky, really.**

GeminiAngel236: **Thanks!**

Midnight Duchess: **Hopeless. Yup, that pretty much describes Roderic. Yet not irreversible, hopefully. Yes! You caught it! You're the only one that mentioned it, harrumph. You can have an extra whatever-I'm-giving-away for seeing that. I never said what I was giving away last time, did I? Golly. Prolonged gigglefits generally brighten moods, so I'm glad Jody gave you one.**

ElvishKiwi: **Oh. Don't cry. --gives you a fresh handkerchief-- Katharine is snotty, and Roderic is hopeless. They need counseling. You admire her? Really? Now, I must know what for. Do tell.**

shadowinRW: **Throttling tends to be permanent and irreversible, you might want to put a hold on that. (Though I fell the same way, plagues upon her!) I thought it was a rather good move myself. I can't have them totally ostracized from society, because then they'd get on each other's nerves faster than they're already wont to do, being cramped in a little tiny house in the middle of winter.**

FaylinnNorse**: The truth will get out, but in the other town, they all believe the rumor. Which will prevail? That's the question of the hour... I agree: poor Jody. Katharine and the flowers was an interesting tidbit I decided to throw in, and I'm glad I did. Awkwardness is generally hilarious, as long as you're not the one being awkward. It's fun to write, too. It makes me smile despite the deleterious effect it has on poor Roddy's self-esteem. He is very sweet – makes me wonder if he'll melt in the rain. Hm. That requires further rumination.**

Emma A. Piper: **There, now we have a summary word for Rod **_**and**_** Katty: hopeless and disagreeable. Ha. The words even sound incompatible.**

daring2dream: **Extra whatever-I'm-giving-you-guys for speculation! Good character analysis too, and you leave room for doubt. Yes, she could just be naturally disagreeable. We shall see. I'm glad the color scheme bit made you laugh, at least a little. As for Roderic's bold remark: don't you hate it when that happens!? It irritates me, so I decided to stick it in there. She nipped that one in the bud. Wham. One strike, and he's back in the dugout before the ref could call it. Jody? A worry-wart? Hm. Maybe he is. I never really thought about it. Interesting.**

Clar the Pirate:** I agree about the criminal aspect of life. The time-space continuum must have hit a scratch on the CD of my life and just skipped ahead a week and half. ****I'm still trying to figure out how I got here. Ah, be not quick to judge the fine balance of peace in a small town. Two different towns. Two different stories. Short distance. Big pro****blems. And what do you mean by "****O! What does Katharine think the situation with them getting married is?" I thought I made it pretty clear that they were getting married for the treaty, and they both agreed to it. Or are you asking about something else? Imaginative thought with Katharine there. Well developed. But yes, it does seem to leave Samantha hanging.**

**I waited too long and didn't write enough. Sorry. Next chapter should be better; there'll be some more Katty/Rod interaction, at least.**

**And for last chapter, howabout those 10¢ candy sticks at Cracker Barrel in the flavor of your choice? (For those who don't know, they have just about every flavor. IF you can't decide, try watermelon – it's very tasty). Wait, they're 15¢ or 20¢ now. Dang, I'm getting old. **

**And since I'm racking up a tab at Cracker Barrel anyway, a jar of cooked apples for reviewers of this chapter. If you haven't have them, try them. A taste of heaven, those apples are. --sigh of longing--**


	10. Art of the Dance

**11 . 10 . 07**

**One more chapter of relative monotony, then we'll see some more action. Don't you love the calm before the storm? Lulling people into a false sense of security never gets old...**

**Disclaimer:**

* * *

_"__You sometimes dance and do not realize you are dancing."_

Forbidden Dancer -- Gigi the Dancer (not recommended)

* * *

The next week of Roderic's marriage, he mostly avoided contact with Katharine after she snubbed him twice more in his attempts to get along. Even Johnathon was at a loss as to what to do next, and had told Roderic he would mull it over and get back to him. Roderic resigned himself to co-existence with this arrogant woman by retreating to the library, where he read and re-read the classics he'd grown up on. 

Somehow, he still had to read through the climactic moments with alarming rapidity to ascertain the fate of the beloved character, even though he knew well enough what was going to happen. In such a moment did Roderic find himself, then, nine days after the life-altering ceremony.

Roderic turned a page without hardly realizing that he did, eyes flowing over the words. Wallace was tied to a log rushing downstream toward (what else?) a waterfall. Cliché though it was, it was no less deadly and now Wallace was twelve feet from the precipice and still unable to loosen his bonds.

"Ah, _The Servant's Tale_, a well-written piece of literature."

Roderic jumped, almost losing his place. His frightened eyes met the Princess's cool ones, framed by inquisitive brows. She really was stunningly pretty, which made him all the more nervous around her.

"Yes it is," he agreed with a slight stutter. "You enjoyed it, I trust?"

"Not in the least," she said sweetly. "I thought it rather barbaric and unrealistic."

She sat in the armchair beside his, ignoring the startled look on his face, and examining the library from her new vantage point. He politely closed his book and tried to start a conversation.

"What books _do_ capture your interest, milady?"

"I prefer biographies and histories to your fictional... brilliance," she said with a brief intentional pause. "Your interior designer had more sense than your builder and gardener combined," she added by way of a compliment, Roderic supposed.

"I am relieved to hear that," Roderic said truthfully.

A few moments of awkward silence preceded the Princess's next remark.

"If you'll excuse me, milord, this conversation has been scintillating, but I'm sure I have something I must do right now."

Not even a total knave could have misconstrued the polite scorn in that statement. She stood and curtsied before leaving. Roderic opened his book again and stared at the page, much less eager to rediscover Wallace's fate after the woman's mockery of the book. He read on for several minutes without much enthusiasm, then slipped the ribbon into his page and left the library.

He wandered aimlessly about the palace, in hopes of discovering something to occupy his attention. When nothing proved forthcoming, and he ran into the same flustered maid three times, he directed his restless feet outdoors.

_I can check on the horses,_ he thought dully, ambling along the cobbled path that led through the gardens to the stable. He then rounded the corner and saw the instigator of his down-trodden mood. He jumped back out of view, before she noticed him, and let his mind process what he had just seen. _What was she doing?_

He peeked back around and beheld the princess twirling desultorily in circles on the trim grass. He blinked. She was dancing. She did not appear by any means 'wild' or 'free' like the maidens in stories, who threw off their shoes, pride, and stockings in one fell swoop, but this was more relaxed then he had ever seen her.

She was smiling faintly with her arms tucked close to her; she appeared less guarded than usual, but not relaxed. He began to make sense of the jagged pattern her feet were following – it was a Terriotian dance. He vaguely remembered learning it and not being very good at it.

Her figure stopped without warning, facing him. Her fathomless eyes locked with his for less than an instant and he quickly drew his head back, feeling extremely childish. _Spying. What a way to make friends._

"Pray, come and join me, milord!" she called.

_By the crown!_ He had no choice but to comply, stepping around the corner once more and halting in front of the princess whose mask was unreadable as always.

"Do you dance?" she asked, mordant tone evident underneath the genuinely inquisitive appearance.

"Yes," he said simply. He noticed with some relief that he was growing used to her blunt and often insulting remarks.

"Have you learned the dance of Terriot as well?" she continued, her eyes never leaving his own.

"Some," he replied slowly, unnerved by her stare, "but I am not so adroit at those."

"I am quite an expert at both," she said, looking away from him at last. "Come, I must teach you the Terrotian dances."

She held her arms out, waiting for Roderic to step into her.

"Now, milady?" he asked in some confusion.

"Why ever not?" she replied, raising her eyebrows sardonically.

Her resolution seemed to ignore the simple facts – they were missing music and a solid dance floor. Those were two things were generally accepted as the necessities of ballroom dancing. Not to mention the fact that it was quickly growing cold, and neither had a jacket.

Nevertheless, Roderic had the feeling that Johnathon would call this a bonding experience, and would lecture him mercilessly if he passed it up. So, with a measure of healthy trepidation, he laid his hands on her waist in the custom of Terriot. She adjusted his hands a little.

"Thumb almost pointing straight up," she instructed, "see; that makes you bend your elbow a little. If you have your arms straight, you'll be the laughingstock of the ball. Thank heavens I caught you first. What a disaster you would have been."

This was all said with an unaffected air, and Roderic found himself relaxing a bit in spite of his better judgment. She had said at least four sentences and only alluded to his stupidity twice. He thought that was rather a prodigious accomplishment.

She rested her hands on his shoulders and trapped his eyes again in her piercing gaze.

"Now, I trust you will take this in the best way possible," she said, in a tone that might have indicated she couldn't care less, "but you _do_ know how to act in public, I hope?"

His muscles tensed again and he could feel that accursed blush pinken his cheeks.

"Indeed I do," he muttered in embarrassment.

"Well, that's a relief. And you _do_ know that we must act very much in love with each other, yes?"

The unspoken statement hit him like a telepathic message. _You're not a complete dunderhead, yes?_

"Yes," he repeated.

"Very good. I must tell you, I am a fairly accomplished actress, so you mustn't take anything I say during the ball in any seriousness. I am bound to get carried away." Her mouth tilted in a half smile. "When you're not blundering or stuttering, you're an unmistakably easy man to be around, so I'm told."

Roderic wasn't sure how to respond to this comment that sounded almost like it could have been a tease, rather than a jab at his foolishness. The other half of her mouth lifted in a sarcastic smile and she patted his shoulder.

"Excellent. No response means you won't say anything daft, doesn't it?"

Roderic was bewildered, and now more unsure of what to say than ever.

"I shall direct the conversation, then," she said lightly. "Dancing. We are about to engage in the Winheim Three-step, which is a common dance. I'll lead, for the sake of saving your slipping face. Hearken to my counts as we dance, now; _one_-two-three, one-_two-_three, one-two-_three_, _one-_two-three. No no, you're switching the pattern. Left, right, right, left."

Roderic stared at the ground, trying to figure out what he had just done. He could almost feel her roll her eyes.

"It's not that hard, even for an oaf... Not you of course," she added without haste. "Let us try again. If you trip me up at the ball neither of us will live it down, and I make it a point not to be dependent on anyone else's reputation if I can help it. Hop to it! Left, right, right, _left_. _One_-two-three..."

They danced for an hour, until the bitter cold finally convinced the Princess that the lesson should cease for the day. Roderic left the encounter more confused than when he'd entered it, which was saying a lot, in his opinion.

"She is drastically unpredictable, Johnathon!" Roderic said tiredly, propping his chin in his hand and wiggling his aching toes. "She always sounds cheerful—"

"Well, that's a step up from emotionless," the other man commented optimistically, though with little vigor.

"Yes, but," Roderic pointed out, lifting his chin off his hand again in order to point at Johnathon emphatically, "she sounds as if every utterance is part of a grand scheme to humiliate me."

"Why's that?" Johnathon asked, raising his thick eyebrows in confusion.

"I... actually do not know," Roderic considered, plopping his chin back into his hand in defeat. "The inflection in her tone, I believe; it always resounded of laughter. With every phrase and pause."

"You could be hearing it because you expect her to be like that?" Johnathon suggested. "The dancing was a good thing to do, though. I saw you out a window from the hall. You two look awe-inspiring together."

"Thank you, I suppose," Roderic said, chewing on his lip.

Johnathon watched him stare into oblivion, wishing he could do more to help his friend other than counseling him. Surely there was something he could do... He interrupted his thoughts and spoke again.

"Try talking to her more, now that she sees you're not a thoroughly imbecilic dunce."

Roderic let his head fall backward onto the stone a bit too hard. Johnathon winced sympathetically.

"I am not at all convinced that learning the Winheim Three-step imparted to her any knowledge of me, save perhaps that I am an intolerably slow learner and I cannot think of anything remotely witty to say. I am not sure that she wants to know me better anyway; we danced for the base reason that she did not want me to embarrass her at the ball."

The man was wisely silent, letting Roderic think things through. Firelight licked Johnathon's rosy cheeks and endowed his chestnut locks with magnified auburn. He appeared the very picture of patience, leaning slightly back in the comfortable chair, yet keeping his gaze on his pitiful companion in case more advice was needed. His calloused hands rubbed the worn lion's head armrest absently, perhaps smoothing the wood further.

"I cannot abide living in a constant state of disquiet, however," Roderic finally said. "I just want her to be pleased, I merely wish for her comfort; I have given up wishing for a friendship.

"What kind of prince are you? I should hope that you don't give up this easily in war!" Johnathon exclaimed.

"This is entirely different," Roderic sighed, "and you know that."

"Yes, but 'all is fair in love and war,'" Johnathon countered, "so they must have some similarities."

"I would hardly call this co-habitation, much _much_ less, love," Roderic said. "I barely know the princess, and I cannot even begin to imagine loving her. Besides, I have a sickening feeling that we will most likely never quite get along."

"I was only kidding," Johnathon reassured, "but you do love easily. You'll find yourself loving her one day without realizing it. Not like that," he added quickly when Roderic shot him a long-suffering look, "as a friend. You love everyone far too dearly, but far be it for a mere servant to point that out to you."

Roderic was forcibly reminded of Samantha's claim to the exact opposite a few weeks previous. He covered his mouth unconsciously.

"But don't trust your first instincts," Johnathon cautioned. "The ball is in five days, surely you can make intelligent conversation with her before then? She's as sharp as a tack, you need to counter her blow for blow in order to gain her respect. If you'd stop being terrified of her, it would be easier."

"I cannot begin to contemplate what she will say next," Roderic defended, "she always takes me by surprise and ruins whatever I was planning to say next."

"Don't plan, just talk," Johnathon advised, laughing. "Do you always plan your conversations before they're carried out?"

"Generally," Roderic said, slightly perturbed at his method being prodded.

"Take her by surprise," Johnathon exclaimed, "maybe you'll catch her off guard and enjoy a few moments of savage triumph before the battle resumes."

"I do not like battles," Roderic moaned.

"Whatever your sentiments on the matter," Johnathon said, mimicking his companion's well-bred verbiage, "the evening repast is to be imminently served, and I have all manners of chores to attend to."

"Chores?" Roderic said in surprise.

"Indeed," Johnathon replied with an imperious nod, then dropped the accent. "Apparently there are too few servants here for a well-built, energetic young man to be a counselor only. I work with the maids, dusting and scrubbing. Rod, don't," he added warningly, spying Roderic's mouth open indignantly, "I always helped out back home, too. I get bored sitting around. Now get to dinner quick before the lovely lady adds another check mark to your record."

* * *

**Final word count: 2246**

**Ahhh, the sweet taste of awkward scenes...Too awkward? Too clunky? Unrealistic? Anyone out of character?**

GeminiAngel236: **Wow, I kinda made your day? That pretty much made ****my**** day!**

Midnight Duchess: **I don't think my poor story is nearly as good, or heartbreaking, as _Cyrano de Bergerac_, but good correlation there. And I assume you meant Jody, not Lee, as Lee is by this time extremely dead and probably decomposing. Yes? Well, I have already promised everyone a happy, or at least satisfying, ending. But, then again, one of the heroes died in my last story and I still deemed it a satisfactory ending, so I suppose you won't know 'til the end, will you? I might have to go into the WPP to keep my appendages intact, however...**

shadowinRW: --**scratches head-- I was fairly sure I said something about him being extremely tall in the earlier chapters. --reviews them-- Aha! 'well over six and half feet tall' I say in chapter 2. There we go. I also allude to his height several times. Though Celeste is short, as well. Think maybe 6' 9" and 5' 2" or so. They do get along well; they were already friends, though, so keep that in mind.**

FaylinnNorse**: Both. He's really tall, and she's really short. Heehee. Cadmus has a weird sense of humor. Yes, they were already friends. Roderic is extremely contemplative. Very philosophical and idealistic.**

Celestial Seraphim: **Well sure, if it's clean and beautified, how could I refuse? What made Lee better? The best example I can come up with is in the Harry Potter series. ****[SPOILER WARNING**** Think of the Harry/Hermione/Ron trio: Harry and Hermione were just friends, while Hermione and Ron got together in the end. Nothing wrong with Harry, but Hermione just liked Ron better as a spouse, and Harry as a friend. Did that clarify anything? ****[END SPOILER**** You can root for whomever you want with my permission. Go ahead and root for Joseph to show up and sweep Celeste away if you want! I have always been amused by shipping fanclubs, though in Nasap I almost feared for my life when the triangle was broken. By the way, you should read the revised chapter 35, because it has more of a release for Cameron, which was something you complained about. A cool emotional scene with Nre... One more thing: Jod**_**y**_**, not Jod**_**i**_**. Heh. I knew a girl named Jodi; that would just be weird.**

ElvishKiwi:

Katharine glared, clenching her fists by her sides.

"Were you born in a barn, Roderic?! Did no one teach you grace and elegance! Must I make all conversation for myself?! Won't you even stand up for yourself when I abuse you!? WHAT FUN ARE YOU ANYWAY! ARGH!"

**Heh. I could see her doing that. With better words. And more composure. But, Cadmus has fun with unrealistic drabbles occasionally. --pats him fondly and receives a scorching tongue of flame in return-- Rod really is a cool guy. Flighty. But cool. Oh, I am so glad you could see it in your head. I had a lot of fun with that whole scene. Very contemplative and descriptive. Very Roderic. Yes, well, I couldn't resist using Inconceivable. Sorry it wrecked your mood. --offers a conciliatory candy stick--**

Clar the Pirate:** Ah. I see your logic. And you are partly right – I imagine she thought of him as one of those guys that thinks he can have any woman swooning if he says a few sweet things like that. I do choose my words carefully, though, so don't give up on analyzing specific words just because of that. Single words can mean more than entire paragraphs sometimes, as I'm sure you know. Well, I was trying to make it fairly realistic, hence the doldrums (because not all things in real life happen quickly) but we're back to some action now. Enjoy!**

daring2dream: **I tend to be soothed by books sometimes. Well, positively affected, I suppose. I'm either soothed or wildly excited if I walk into a room full of books, breathe in, and **_**smell**_** the stories on the fragrance of old books. I love it. Jody carving the figurine for Lee was a spur-of-the-moment idea, but I thought it would be a good medium to tell a bit of backstory. And it is cute ;) The baby, well, is doing fine I guess. Not a whole lot to say when it's 4ish months along, though, he/she is hardly a bulge yet. No names! You'll find out later --zips lips--**

Bingo7**: 4: Nope, these characters are separate from Nasap entirely. Roderic is a noble man. He's a gomer to write, but he's cute. 9: Rod and Katty are something else entirely. Writing their interactions makes me giggle. It makes me think of Elizabeth and Darcy's conversations in _Pride and Prejudice_. Katharine is so proud, she makes me laugh. Unfortunately, she's not nearly as spectacular as Darcy, but she's aspiring. She's also a good deal nastier than he was. Ah well.**

**Let's see... I'm a story an a half into giving prizes away, and I think I'm running out of consumables. We'll have to go to name brands. Hm... --thinks-- Oh! Have I already done Milwaukee Frozen Custard? I think I did a frozen custard cake, but that'll work. Okay, so **

**REVIEW!ers**

**get a large bowl of Milwaukee Frozen Custard. The flavor of the day is Coconut Almond Chip, but you can get vanilla or chocolate anytime.**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Midnight Duchess**, for pointing out my error!  
**


	11. Accusation

**16 . 10 . 07**

**--dancing around whimsically, humming under breath--**

**Oh sorry, what? Author's note? Right. Erm. Actually, there's really not a lot to say; you'll have to see for yourself.**

* * *

_The sisters traded looks. "If he hurt her…" began Anna, anger glinting in her eyes._

"_The question isn't if he hurt her, Anna. It's how."_

Caporushes --shattered rainbow

* * *

An icy wind blew through the slightly open window, cooling the stuffy cottage. Smells of spicy meat wafted throughout the small dwelling, riding puffs of smoke that strayed from the roughly hewn fireplace. The cottage was small, but comfortable. 

It looked like a happy home, with quilts draping over the sparse furniture and stuffed neatly into cracks in the walls. A smaller quilt, half finished, was carefully folded and sitting on a rocking chair next to a few scraps of fabric that were about to be sewn in. _"My precious angel" _was stitched perfectly in white thread atop of a maroon heart.

The floor was paneled in polished oak boards, and swept fastidiously clean. A few globs of polish marred the otherwise flawless handiwork, evidence that it had been a labor of love, not skill.

The woman holding the pan over the fire and looking at it with an experimental eye fit right in with the home. Her worn apron was tied around her slightly bulging middle with frayed cord, and the skirt that swayed in the breeze was plain and practical. Blonde curls, reaching the middle of her back, were bunched and knotted at the nape of her neck to keep them out of her busy way.

One tendril strayed onto her face, shining with perspiration from the fire, and she expertly secured it in the tie once more. A delicate nose and high cheekbones complemented a mouth that always seemed to have a smile tucked just out of reach.

_Same as always,_ Jody thought, looking at it all with a pang of familiarity. The cottage was almost as familiar as his own small house in town, though a great deal cleaner. He remembered when the new couple were just moving into this house, two years ago. He had known Celeste and Lee since they were all laughing children, chasing each other before school started. He was one of the first to become an advocate of the unlikely pair's falling in love, and one of the first people Celeste had told after Lee proposed. Jody had already known about it, of course, but Celeste insisted on telling him how it happened from her point of view, interspersing the narrative with laughing and crying.

He was the best man in the wedding, and Lee had already told Jody that he would be the legal godfather of their children.

"_In case anything happens to us,"_ Lee had said with a wink.

_Oh golly, if only you knew..._

"Jody! Get out of bed and come eat before—! Oh, how long have you been standing there?"

She set the pan down on a potholder on the table and brushed her hands on the apron.

"Only a minute," Jody said, limping to the table.

"You need a crutch or something," Celeste admonished. "I'll bet you're not supposed to put a lot of weight on that."

Jody waved her off and spooned some of the meat and potato mixture onto his plate.

"You can't avoid me," she warned, sitting down and scooping food onto her own plate. "And I'm in a foul temper, so don't argue."

Jody wasn't planning on it. On closer inspection, Celeste did look rather like she'd had a bad morning. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying, and she had a firm line above her eyebrows that looked forbidding. She poked a piece of meat with her fork and held it up, scowling. Jody choked a laugh back, deciding that it might be hazardous to his health to show amusement when Celeste was so evidently annoyed by something.

Laugh. He almost laughed.

He considered that he almost wished he did, just so he could say that he had laughed. It sounded like an accomplishment. The first real laugh since Lee had died. Would there be a prize?

Another amusing thought. Odd. He suddenly noticed that Celeste was still talking and situated a solemn look on his face.

"--burned my hand twice already, and singed my skirt! This happens to be one of my favorites. The meat took too long to cook, and I think I burnt some of the potatoes. I'm normally quite a good cook, if you recall, and the fact that I can't even make a simple breakfast stir-fry is very irritating!"

"You'll get used to the burns," Jody said, remembering his first few serious ones fondly. Ah, the benefits of being a blacksmith. Anything cooler than a forge he could handle without wincing.

He was startled from his thoughts by Celeste's angry remark.

"That doesn't make them hurt less now!"

"Golly, I was just trying to help!" he said with mild annoyance, taking a large bite of the breakfast. "This is good, by the way. I don't taste anything burnt."

Her eyes began to fill with tears and Jody inwardly winced.

"Jody!" she said in exasperation and slammed her fork onto her plate.

Jody physically winced this time. Celeste didn't usually crash things around when she got angry. She tended to hold it in and get more sweet sounding, but venomous. More scary. But the fork-banging was startling.

"Why can't you – what's wrong with – ergh!" she cried, then dropped her head onto her arms and began to sob.

_What in blue blazes?_ Jody thought in confusion. He set his plate and fork down and examined her, wondering what he should do now. Comfort her? Leave her alone?

"Why did he have to die?" she whimpered.

The words sliced cleanly through him and cut his breath in half, mortally wounding any last vestiges of humor. He exhaled sharply.

"I don't know," he whispered.

"I wasn't talking to you!" she shouted, clenching her fists but not raising her face from the table.

"Well sorry, but in case you didn't notice, there's no one else here," he said waspishly. "What else am I supposed to do if you start talking to invisible people?"

"Why can't you be a little more sensitive," she snapped, jerking her head up and swiping furiously at her eyes.

"What did I do?" he said, growing more angry with every word.

"Not enough!" she said, standing, "I've cooked all your meals, kept the house clean, washed your clothes, and you haven't thanked me once! I have to practically force you to say anything complimentary, and you never apologize for losing your temper, even if I apologize first!"

"Is that all?" he said in disbelief.

Her face colored and her eyes flashed.

"_All?_"she practically whispered. "Yes, that's all. I just want to be appreciated sometimes, to let me know that I'm not living with a lump of rock."

"I do appreciate you!" he said heatedly.

"Then show it, and quit pretending you're perfect! You make mistakes, just like the rest of us mortals!"

"I know I'm not perfect," Jody growled, hackles rising at this jab, "but if we're going to live together, we're going to have to see past each others' differences."

"Oh, really. Tell me, oh magnificent and forgiving one, what exactly are you overlooking about me?"

Her voice was acidic and Jody had the feeling that he probably should apologize or something, but his character was tugging him away from that. She asked a question, he would answer it honestly.

"You're always melting at the slightest mention of anything having to do with Lee, which is extremely irritating and very inconvenient. I've been pretty good about keeping my temper then, which is a huge accomplishment."

Celeste looked like she'd been slapped.

"Jody, he was my _husband_, I _love_ him, of course it's going to take a while to get used to his... death."

"I've known him a lot longer than you have, and you don't see me bawling everyday!" Jody exclaimed.

"You're impossible!" she shouted. "I don't know why I even bother with you. Can't you just _listen _to people?"

"We weren't even talking about listening!" Jody thundered, now thoroughly riled. "We were talking about you not being in control of your emotions, and me having more reason to!"

"You're an arrogant unsympathetic fool," she said, wiping her eyes again, which had been streaming tears without notice during the shouting match.

"I agree," said a voice from the doorway.

They both whirled toward William, who was leaning against the doorframe with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"Noble intentions, had we, Jody? It seems as if your blushing bride isn't as willing as you portrayed her to be."

As angry as she was at Jody, Celeste instantly realized what a horrible scene the man had just witnessed, and Jody saw fear replace the fury on her face.

"William, you came at a bad time," she said obviously.

Jody considered speaking, but decided it would do more harm then good at this point. His nerves were already high-strung with frustration toward Celeste, and he knew he was apt to let his mouth run away with him at William.

"So it seems," William murmured. "I am just coming home from Albertte. I heard the strangest story there. Apparently, you made yourself out to be quite the romantic hero, gallantly saving the damsel in distress. A few of the more callous ones even suggested that you'd loved Celeste all along, and this was fate's way of confirming your secret love. But, I do not believe in fate. Or, rather, of fate's controlling actions. I believe that actions control fate."

He stepped into the cottage, and Jody could see several men behind him with various weapons. His blood ran cold.

"I have been watching your fight for a few moments, and that was all the evidence I needed to confirm my suspicion. Jody, I am hereby making a citizen's arrest, because I have reason to believe you murdered Lee Wilson. It would do you well not to fight," he continued, seeing Jody's corded arms tense, "because you are outnumbered six to one. Even a murdering blacksmith cannot take on six armed men empty-handed."

"William, stop it," Celeste snapped.

Her eyes were flashing even more now, and the pleading note she had taken with him before was gone. She was in a towering fury as she marched up to him and looked him squarely in the eye (a prodigious feat, as she was a head and a half shorter than he).

"We were telling the truth then, and the story has not changed. Lee died in battle. I've known Jody better than you have, since as long as I can remember, and have no reason to believe that Jody killed him. I agreed to marry him, for both of our benefit."

William smiled through this entire vehement speech, then patted her shoulder fondly.

"Your grief has drawn you closer to those you trusted. Unfortunately, you have trusted the wrong person this time. Don't worry, Lee will be avenged, and I will personally be sure that you live comfortably. Perhaps the men could build you a house in town."

She brushed his hand away and glared at him still.

"If you arrest him, and he is convicted of this crime, I hope you never rest easy in your bed again; you are sentencing an innocent man to death."

"I don't understand why you're still fighting for him," William said calmly, appraising her as if he were reading a curious letter. "He certainly isn't treating you very well, from what I heard."

"Everyone fights. Do you mean to tell me you and Hallie have never once had an argument that escalated into shouting?" she challenged.

"No, we haven't," William said, "because I make it a point to control my temper."

"Well," Celeste huffed, "aren't you just Mr. Perfect. You have all the manners and none of the sense. Congratulations. I suppose you're proud of yourself, aren't you?"

"Do you love him, Celeste?"

Jody stiffened and glanced at Celeste, who appeared wary. William looked as if he were seriously trying to make a point, his eyes focused intently on Celeste's.

"Do you?"

"Yes," she answered, eying him as if waiting for the trick question.

"As anything other than a friend?"

"No," she answered without hesitation.

"Then you have no business marrying him."

"I'd thank you to stay out of my business," Celeste said loudly, breaking the tense moment.

William nodded at the men outside and they filed in, pointing swords and spears at Jody.

"I care about you too much for that," William said softly, offering his arm. "Come on. Hallie is expecting us at home."

"I'm not leaving your men to torment my friend," she said hotly, stepping away from him. "And you are making a mistake, taking him like this. He'll never be convicted. We have no witnesses."

"We'll see about that," William hummed. "Now, come with me, or I'll have to take you by force."

"You wouldn't dare," she spat. "I'll fight, and if my baby is miscarried you'll have a lot more to pay than it would be worth."

"Celeste, please see reason," William pleaded. "We are arresting him, and you'd be better off in town then here alone, in case anything happens."

"Just go, Celeste," Jody said around the men menacing weapons at him. "He has a point. It's winter, anything could happen. I'd feel better if I knew you were being taken care of while I am unable to help."

He tried to sound as if he did not at all believe he would be convicted. But, knowing them mens' prejudices, things weren't looking very good for him, even without witnesses.

"I'm not going to let them hurt you!" she shouted at him.

"Celeste, you can't do much," he commented realistically. "They won't kill me before they put me on trial." _Golly, that was morbid._

She began to cry again, which gave William the opening he needed. He quickly took her arm and steered her out the door. The men converged on Jody and for one horrifying instant, he thought they would kill him. All of their weapons jabbed into him at once and he felt a burst of sympathy for a cooked pig.

"If you move, we'll run you through," the butcher said grimly.

"Really? I couldn't tell," Jody said with a bored air.

Someone bound his hands tightly with rope. Jody felt rather flattered by all the effort they went to. Apparently they did view him as a real threat. That was strangely comforting, in its own odd little way.

They forced him into the back of William's wagon, and kept their weapons on him all the way into town.

_Here you go, Lee,_ he thought, _I yelled at your wife, and now I'm getting arrested for murder. At least William and Hallie will take care of her after—if I'm killed. She'll have to give up the cottage, though, which would kill her._

_Good golly, how am I going to get out of this? Any advice, little man?_

His mind remained silent, and the cold air frisking about his ears bore no hint of a supernatural whisper. He sighed, which aroused the men to raise their weapons higher.

"Don't try anything," someone grunted.

He really wanted to snap something witty at the man, and hear Celeste or Lee's laughter ringing after it, but the realization that neither could hear him and one never would again, sobered him. He looked away.

"I'm not going to," he said dully, and closed his eyes against the whole situation.

* * *

**Final word count: 2567**

**Out of character? Too dramatic? Too overused?**

Midnight Duchess: **Wonderful _Zero Wing_ reference. It made me smile. Cadmus is preening now over the compliment you actually gave ME --kicks him-- Whoops, forgot about the fire-breathing end of him, heh heh heh... Ew, you're right, that does sound grandmothery. Let me fix that. You get another shout-out, congrats.**

daring2dream:** It is extremely odd that she is out there dancing by herself. I wonder why... --looks innocent-- Johnathon is just groovy. I'm not sure any other word would be quite accurate. The ball is next chapter, and I hope you like it! **

Celestial Seraphim: --**Adopts the aura of a wise and benevolent master-- Patience, young padawan. Happiness, conflict, and love will come all in due course (probably). And yes, well, everything I write needs to be rewritten. If you have any specific suggestions, feel free to PM or review them to me. I love words. They are the spice of life. Choosing the right one really is like deciding what specific herbs to put in a dish in order to cultivate the ideal flavor.**

tami:** I'm glad you like it; I'm having a lot of fun writing it. Thanks for reviewing! I hope you stick around!**

FaylinnNorse**: Yes, extremely unexpected, her dancing. Depth of character even? Very good. By all means, give them nicknames. I generally call them Roddy and Kat myself. She is an expert at controlling her facial expressions, isn't she? Wish I could do that, sometimes. Heh, well, Roddy has no clue what to do, the poor guy. Everyone's been respecting him and looking up to him practically all his life, and here comes this insolent woman, whom he has to live with, who thinks he's nothing but a brainless urchin. Again, Jonathon is groovy. Very groovy.**

Clar the Pirate:** No, you're right – he is rather average. But those men who think that way aren't always God's gift to women either. I was referring to a mindset. Roderic himself; I don't think he's ugly, perhaps more of the 'cute once you get to know him' type. Doesn't stand out from the crowd at a glance, unlike Katharine who's just phenomenally beautiful, and smart, and she knows it. Yes, that description of Katty fits quite well, good job. Nice word, by the way, banausic. Perfect.**

**I feel healthy. How about a nice grilled chicken salad? Or taco salad, if you'd prefer.**

**P. S. Did anyone catch the pun in here? Extra croutons if you did!**


	12. Paper Faces on Parade

**21 . 10 . 07**

**The ball has arrived! Fasten your seat belts, this could get dangerous. And long. Very long. Bring a snack, too, and a CD player.**

* * *

_"__Could things get anymore romantic?...er...unnerving?"_

It's Not That Easy --Bingo5

* * *

Roderic spent much of the next five days being guilted into helping the servants decorate 'to his satisfaction' and tasting the cooking to be sure it was 'equal to his majesty's taste'. The large beaming smiles he received when he gave them honest praise were enough reward for him, however, and the only thing that worried him was the fact that he had not seen the Princess at all, except for when she was asleep. 

She went to bed earlier than he, and rose later, though she thankfully slept deeply enough not to be bothered by his slipping in and out. He had managed a quick council with Johnathon, and after finding him (the man seemed to grow harder to find each day, probably from a deluge of chores), he was advised to merely keep being friendly when he saw her.

"And don't forget to be affectionate tonight," Johnathon whispered before ducking out of sight.

The Princess walked gracefully toward Roderic, prepared to take his arm and begin greeting the guests. Roderic had to make a conscious effort to tear his eyes off the fabulous peach colored gown that set off her olive complected skin perfectly and made her look beautifully exotic. The vibrant red rose twisted around her gold and diamond tiara added just the right aspect of deep color as to make her a vision no one would forget in a hurry.

The door opened and the first few couples began towards them. The princess slid her arm comfortably into the crook of his elbow and stood so her hip was just touching his own. For a moment, he thought it was very strange, being next to someone else on equal standing. He was used to having the spotlight focused intently on himself alone, and it was an awkward relief to know that the Princess would have at least half the stares.

_Probably more,_ he thought perceptively, glancing at her again, _she is a good deal more to look at._

"You ready for this?" he breathed.

She nodded, then giggled for the benefit of the magnanimous older couple that was tottering nearer. With a grin that looked eerily dreamy, she faced forward. _Lord and Lady Plumridge,_ Roderic thought, making sure he had the names right before he introduced the pair. They were huge financial contributors to the crown.

"Good evening, Lord and Lady Plumridge," Roderic said cordially, "may I introduce my captivating wife, the princess of Terriot?"

"You flatter me," the Princess said modestly, though she smiled all the same.

"He certainly does not," the kindly woman said. "What a lovely woman you are, majesty."

"A singular pleasure to be introduced to such a stunning bride," the man added warmly, kissing her hand.

They moved on after a few pleasantries were exchanged, allowing the next man to greet the royal couple.

"A smart match," the old lady was heard to twitter as the impeccably dressed man strutted toward the pair.

Roderic noted the sparkling rings, ruthlessly cultivated facial hair, mirror-like shine in the black shoes, and desperately slicked hair. His Excellency Samuel Morgan, would, of course, be attending, but Roderic had quite forgotten about the character. He had heard rumors and gossip about the man quite frequently, but he had hardly seen him since their last fencing match three years ago. Roderic had finally beaten him on that day, and Samuel then pronounced that he would not be playing henceforth.

"Roderic," he addressed the prince informally, voice low and lazy, "You look well."

The Princess seemed to stiffen slightly at the man's blatant disregard for propriety, but Roderic didn't hardly notice. Samuel had never really seen Roderic as much of a prince; anyone less masculine than himself wasn't worthy of a title, in his opinion.

"As do you," Roderic said smoothly.

"I do indeed," Samuel droned. "What a lovely wench you have managed to acquire, I see."

"May I introduce you to Princess Katharine of Terriot?" Roderic said quickly; he could almost feel the Princess bristle.

"You must, of course. A pleasure," Samuel intoned, kissing her proffered hand.

"Where have you been of late, Marquis? I have not seen you in any gatherings of court," Roderic asked politely.

Samuel allowed a brief, low laugh to rumble through him before he answered.

"That is just so. I have been rusticating for a number of months on my country estate – Ravenby, if you recall – and enjoying my well earned vacation."

Roderic, who had heard something about the man avoiding gambling debts or else being involved in something to do with Lord Jerrick's daughter, wisely remained silent and nodded.

"What a wonderful place, Ravenby—"

"It is."

"—I have not been there in years."

"Indeed, that is quite so."

"I heard it was dreadful," the Princess said sweetly.

Roderic almost lost his head in shock.

"It most certainly is," Samuel said in agreement.

"Well, it was quite lovely talking to you—"

"It was, to be sure."

"—but we must greet the others now."

"Certainly, you must," the man agreed, kissing the Princess's hand once more and strutting off.

Roderic glanced at the Princess, whose face remained charming. She looked up at him and whispered quietly.

"How terribly unflattering that man is to his species."

Roderic secretly agreed, but said nothing as the next lady walked up to them.

"Countess Mar'evans, may I introduce my husband, the Crown Prince of Rijhad?" the Princess said lightly.

And so the introductions continued for well over two hours, until all the nobility of Rijhad and Terriot had arrived. The doors were then opened to the servants and common folk who wished to attend, up to a certain number, on a first-come first-serve basis.

This was the royal pair's cue to walk to their thrones in the ballroom, before the commoners entered. Roderic, who had not found an appropriate time to lift his hand from her waist, removed it then thankfully to offer his arm again. She took it easily and they proceeded.

the Princess's excellent acting put him at ease, he realized with a large portion of relief. He had unerring confidence in her abilities to cover perfectly for any minor blunders he might make. It was freeing.

He observed happily that the guests were mingling well, even representatives from both countries seemed engaged in deep conversation with each other.

_Every gathering of nobility is like a masquerade,_ Roderic thought idly as they walked toward the simple thrones at the opposite end of the room. _Ladies hide behind painted faces and corsets, pretending to be more beautiful, or younger, than they need to be. Men put on masks of boasts and beautiful wives, as if there is no more to life. Commoners pretend to have class as they dance in borrowed dresses and introduce themselves to their leaders. Everyone acts delighted to be here, though half of them wish they were elsewhere. Even the ballroom pretends to be something that it is not._

He let his eyes wander over the sparkling room as they sat. It was elaborately decorated in crisp white and glittering gold. The torch sconces and corners were thoroughly scrubbed and every bit of the room glowed. The most stunning feature was the thin carpet of actual gold strands that covered the entire cracked stone floor. Roderic had seen the room before, and he almost laughed as he listened to the designers talk and heard what they were planning to do. He didn't think such a transformation was possible.

_It is truly amazing what things can be covered up._

"Come on, love," the Princess whispered, pulling him out of his cynical tableau. "It is time for us to dance."

He smiled sheepishly.

"Of course, Katharine."

_Her name. I actually said her name. That was strange._

They stood and she squeezed his hand a little before releasing, causing his hand to tingle at the gesture of affection. They walked to the middle of the dance floor as a song to the Winheim Three-step was struck. He was slightly leery of the surety of his steps, but Katharine gave him an encouraging smile and put her hands on his shoulders. He, in turn, placed his hands on her waist and tried to remember what to do.

The song started and his first steps were correct. He kept a mental count in his head, covering for this fact by staring into Katharine's eyes as if lost in them. She seemed to understand, and any slip of the foot she gently covered for, making him appear much more adept than he was. He was surprised at the difference between their lesson several days ago and this. She was more relaxed, and felt like she was melting into him, changing her posture with elegant grace to fit his own. Somehow, even though they were in front of a crowd of people, it seemed infinitely more intimate, which made him nervous. Katharine then caught his attention and grinned a little, winking. He could almost imagine what she would say.

"_Remember? We're acting. Don't get nervous."_

Roderic began to hear whispers as they swept around the floor.

"Look, he's quite taken with her."

"Oh see, she's blushing!"

"What a lovely couple."

"They seem very much in love."

"They look so comfortable together!"

"With this sort of action, I wonder if they haven't been secret lovers for years."

"They do look so smart together."

"I'm glad he's giving her the love she deserves, fine gel."

When the song was over, Roderic thought it would be good to solidify the show with some affectionate sign._ But what?_ The nagging feeling that Katharine might not appreciate it poked in on his thoughts. He contemplated quickly in the last few bars of the song, then decided she would understand, and possibly compliment him for improvising.

With the final chord, before she could curtsy, he tenderly pulled her closer so he could whisper,

"You seem to be a hit, dearest."

He moved to kiss her cheek but she changed his plans, moving marginally so his lips caught her own instead. Roderic was frozen in surprise for a moment, then recovered himself and moved back. He could hear the 'aww's and sighs of the crowd, and Katharine smiled brightly, her eyes twinkling in devilish laughter. She then made a small motion at his mouth. He quickly wiped it and pulled away a hand with a slight residue of pale pink. Several ladies tittered.

Katharine looked as if she were trying very hard to stifle laughter, then gave up and giggled anyway before returning her hands to his shoulders for the next dance. Roderic, sure he was blushing again, but appreciating her lightheartedness on the matter, put his hands in the correct position for the next song, a slower ballad about Shayna and her ill-fated love.

The ball continued as Roderic thought it would – sly glances, smiles, and nods peppered the continuation. Katharine continually took him by surprise by either altering his plans or doing something unnecessarily affectionate. But, rather than put him on edge, the occurrences made him smile and actually change the plans right back at her. The first time he did so, taking her hand as they stood waiting for the gifters to arrive, she almost forgot to quell a look of surprise, but changed it smoothly at the last minute to an appreciative smile and she intertwined her fingers with his.

The doors were opened once more to herald, not a gaggle of common folk, but a stately procession of figures who exuded vibrating magic merely from their combined presences. Tulip and Freesia, twin sorceresses with silky hair the color of mahogany and skin of milky-white led the others. The two women had valiantly rescued Terriot from open warfare several years ago; the frightening beauty they displayed made it easy to believe. Wizard Francis and Vallo the fairy followed after them, the latter supporting the wizard who struggled with a deteriorating leg which was remnant of a fierce duel last century. Six female fairies in a variety of brightly colored dresses with satin trains walked behind them at a stately pace.

They were ended by a being that made people gasp and step back in awe. A naiad walked alone, looking indifferent to the stares he was receiving. His face shone with the glow of light striking a pool of fathomless water. His eyes were an electric aquamarine as he examined the ballroom and its occupants, and they matched exactly to the accents on his suit, which seemed a fabric mother-of-pearl. The tendrils of hair, undulating as if they were suspended in water, were of an uncertain hue. They might have been blue, or aqua, or green.

The twins ascended the few steps to the dais and the others silently formed a line, with the naiad taking his place at the end as he scrutinized the ballroom still. Tulip, as Roderic noted by her pendant of the flower dangling from her neck, stood directly in front of the pair. Roderic noticed that Katharine was nervous – the heartbeat he could feel through her hand accelerated.

"I bless you, Katharine," Tulip said, "with better understanding."

She kissed her cheek and stepped aside. Katharine lifted her hand to touch the skin, glancing after her with an unreadable expression on her lovely face.

"I bless you, Roderic," said Freesia, who had stepped in front of them while Roderic was watching the other goings on, "with the solution to a perplexing difficulty."

She kissed his cheek; a faint tingling lingered for a few seconds afterward as she moved to stand by her sister.

"I bless the pair of you with good luck in a hard time," the old wizard said gruffly, kissing their cheeks one after the other.

The six female fairies gave them presents in pairs; an iris that would never die, a magic-wrought necklace with a tiger lily pendant, and a set of riding clothes for each of them – including boots – that would always fit. Vallo, an accomplished metal fairy whose eyes gleamed a sharp silver, then presented Roderic with a sword that would never dull.

As Vallo bowed and slipped away, the naiad took his place looking altogether imperious and still friendly. Roderic almost bowed to him automatically, he emanated such an aura of commanding presence. He stared at them both for a few moments before speaking, and Roderic had the eerie feeling that he was staring into their thoughts.

"I bless you with dreams," he said in a voice that, quite appropriately, sounded like both a peaceful creek and a thundering river.

Then he kissed Roderic's forehead and the man gasped in shock; he felt like he had been doused in an icy waterfall. The naiad bowed his respect to the couple, then strode away with the rest of the gifters in his wake.

"Are you alright?" Katharine asked in a low voice after they had left and the guests returned to dancing.

Roderic bobbed his head unevenly.

"Yes, yes, I will be quite fine, thank you," he said. "I just had a bit of a shock, that is all."

"Tulip's gift stung a little," she sympathized, "which has never happened before. Maybe it depends on the magnitude of the gift?"

There she laughed a little at herself, then tugged his hand playfully.

"Come on, my feet are itching to dance again, then I want to talk to the minstrels. I don't recognize all of them, and they are always so fun to talk to."

"You talk to minstrels?" he said in surprise, following her to the dance floor.

"Of course," she said airily, ignoring his confusion with apparent relish.

Her enjoyment of his awkwardness didn't seem as malicious as it had before, so Roderic shrugged off the comment and danced with her. This dance was Rijhaddite, so he was much better at it. She was excellent too, and even followed well when he led her into some improvised sections with quick footwork.

When the song ended, they were out of breath and Katharine glanced at him curiously.

"You improvised," she said, "during the dance. I didn't think you were the type."

For the first time since their meeting, something interesting came to mind at an appropriate time.

"There might be more to me than meets the eye," he said mysteriously.

She laughed, and her eyebrows did arch in mild surprise, but she made no other comment. They made their way over to where the minstrels were congregated opposite from the royal orchestra. Some had joined together into a makeshift band to play certain songs, but they mostly performed alone, for the gratification of only those nearby who could hear well enough over the orchestra.

Many common folk clapped their hands and joined in country dances to meet the spirited tunes' liveliness, while others just watched and smiled appreciatively at the little bit of home quaking through the palace persona.

"There is Fiona the Fierce," Katharine said, pointing to a lovely and demure young lady idly playing the pan flute. "She can charm anyone with her songs. Some say she might be of fairy descent."

Fiona must have somehow heard her name because she looked up and Roderic and winked before flashing him a bright smile.

"There is Dannel over there, see him with the black hair? They say he's the embodied spirit of the city, Dannel, for he is serious sometimes and very modest, but other times boisterous and raucous. Like the city."

Roderic smiled at the youthful lad tugging a lock of Fiona's hair.

"And there are Gregory and Beech, they are also from Terriot, but I know no more. The others must be Rijhaddite. Do you know them?"

"I must confess I have never spoken to the minstrels before or cared much for their presence," he admitted. "I know none of them."

"_You don't miss a thing,_

_All they do is sing,_" commented a short young man in a sing-song voice, who appeared as if by magic at Roderic's left elbow.

"Oh, hello," Roderic said, jumping a little, "whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

The boy sobered into a look of overused drama and sang,

"_I'm a wandering singer with naught,_

_But my lute and the clothes that I got_

_(I borrowed even these for the ball,_

_And left my old garb in the hall)"_

"You are a minstrel, then," Roderic summed up, unsure how to react to his odd verse.

Katharine chuckled at his other elbow.

"_Aye, but there's nothing that rhymes with that word,_

_Leastways nothing that I've ever heard,_" sang the young man sagely.

"Do you always sing?" Roderic asked.

The younger man's eyes twinkled in laughter.

"_Oh, not always,_

_But on ball days,_

_My tune is riled,_

_By all the smiles,_

_And a song can't stay,_

_From Crazy Joseph's way."_

"Crazy Joseph?" Katharine questioned. "You don't seem too crazy to me."

Joseph tapped his head suggestively.

"_Got whomped good, in battle,_

_They send us off like cattle,_

_But we get pointy weapons unlike them._

_I fought hard, and bravely,_

_But as my mates said gravely,_

_I didn't last too long before I fell._

_Since then, I sang right,_

_So I didn't put up a fight,_

_When they declared me unfit to pursue_

_A soldier's, real glory,_

_Now I relate my story,_

_In jaunty rhymes that are mine ever since."_

"Goodness," Roderic said, "that is quite a story."

He tipped his borrowed hat and skipped away. Katharine and Roderic talked to a few other minstrels, then mingled with the nobility, though they took breaks occasionally to dance. The rest of the evening passed much in the same way as the beginning, giving the people a firm belief in the couple's devotion to each other.

If Roderic hadn't known she was acting, he would have been a thoroughly confused if not (heaven forbid) lovestruck man. She played her part flawlessly, finding subtle ways to lay a hand on his shoulder or run a finger along his arm that looked very personal. He took up the unspoken challenge, and found opportune moments for secretive smiles or an affectionate squeeze of the hand.

Despite the fun he surprisingly derived from the friendly competition, he was glad when the ball was over and they bid their guests good night. As they walked to their bedroom together, Roderic was suddenly seized with all the awkwardness he had suppressed during the ball. They had hardly stayed in the same room together for an hour prior to the ball, and now they were both going to the same room after being in each other's very close company all evening.

Roderic had always made a point to never go to bed at the same time as she, and now his mind began whirling on ways to come in later without making it obvious. _There are guests staying overnight, however,_ he thought. _If they see me wandering about, that could instigate rumors._

He had no other choice than to follow her in. He lingered by the door, seeing how she would react to this turn of events, but she didn't even glance his direction. She methodically yawned, seized her neatly folded nightgown off the dresser top, stepped out of her high heeled shoes, walked into the bathroom, and shut the door firmly behind her.

Roderic quickly undressed and pulled on his nightclothes, then washed his face in the basin of clear water on the little stone table brought from his old room. Yawning, he groped on his dresser for the stack of messages that had no doubt been accumulating all day. He was right.

With a groan, he gripped the bundle of papers and crawled into bed, flipping quickly through them to get the basic idea of what was happening on the battlefront. Won two battles... six successful raids... morale improving... Terriotians fighting well... all good news. _That is a happy first,_ he thought with a smile, laying the papers next to the lantern and blowing it out.

Katharine opened the bathroom door and walked somewhat unsteadily to the bed. Roderic, who had completely forgotten about his wife and was about to drift into sleep, jerked back into wakefulness and lay there, unsure what to do. With one eye open, she rolled onto the bed and pulled the coverlet over her head, which pulled it slightly off Roderic's toes. Bother.

He bent his knees a little and snuggled his toes back into a warm spot, preparing to sleep again, when Katharine spoke.

"Roderic, I think I had too much to drink," she said, voice muffled by the thick blanket.

The man smiled and patted the lump that was her arm.

"You will sleep well then."

_Did I just say something? Did I actually say something that was not idiotic?_

She moaned in response to his comment, then stirred and unburied one eye, so she could look at him properly.

"Good job, by the way. Almost had me fooled a couple of—" _yawn_ "—times."

"Thank you," he said uncomfortably, then thought of something. "Should I wake you tomorrow? Or should I bid our guests _adieu_ myself and plead your illness?"

"Aroogh, no," she groaned, "you'd mess it up royally. Send someone to wake me up twenty minutes before I need to appear, and make sure they bring coffee with toast."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, Serge," he commented, with sarcasm that surprised himself, but apparently not Katharine.

She merely blinked and wiggled her head back under the blanket.

"That's right," she said through a yawn, "respect where respect is due, young footsoldier."

He smiled again and closed his eyes. Fooling a nation seemed to have bought him a friend. _What a day._

* * *

**Final word count: 3953**

**Well, things might be looking up on the Kat and Roddy front. **

Celestial Seraphim: **I don't think my chapters are too short – I have a personal and intense dislike of long chapters, though. Yours are right on the edge for my liking. This one's longer, at about a thousand words more than the others, so I hope you enjoyed it!**

FaylinnNorse**: I'm glad the fight was realistic. I thought and thought about realistic habits that would get on each other's nerves if they didn't work them out, then combined them into this explosion of a chapter. Heh. **

Bingo7:**Sure. --hands a handkerchief along with salad--**

Emma A. Piper: **Good idea in general. Hm. I'll add it to the stock of assorted brilliant plans I have rolling around in Cadmus' junk drawer. Don't be surprised if I pull it out and dust it off for use later! Thanks! I'm glad Lee was loveable enough that you mourned for him after only knowing him for a few chapters. That gives me warm fuzzies. You have theories? Do tell!**

daring2dream:**William is annoying. Well meaning, but annoying. The pun was in the chapter, but it wasn't terribly obvious. Oh well, no one saw it. --sigh-- It was when I said Jody peeked around the weapons being menaced at him, then he said "He has a point." I was amused when I discovered it and decided to leave it there.**

Clar the Pirate:** I was getting bored with them moping about, so I staged a nice little altercation for them, then decided to drag in William to muck things up royally. He's so good at that. You're still dreaming of Joseph? Stay on the lookout! You're not being too terribly hasty – I'm hoping to cleanly finish this story in under 35 chapters, so we're a little under halfway there! Any speculation you have is welcome, especially about how you think the stories will intersect. **

GeminiAngel236:**Thanks for reading and reviewing! I hope the blasted words leave you alone... --sics Cadmus on them--**

**SO, OFFICIAL INFORMATION: Yes, the two plotlines are going to intersect at some point. Anyone who speculates with reasonable accuracy (not perfectly, of course) how I'm going to do it will get a significant prize.**

**Peanut M&Ms make a good breakfast if you're in a rush. Let's hand those out for reviewing this time. If you're allergic, try the ones with rice crispie things inside, those are pretty good too.**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Midnight Duchess**, for (once again) pointing out my typo! And thank you, **Clar the Pirate**, as well!  
**


	13. The Supreme Irony

**2 . 11 . 07**

**--shuffles feet abashedly-- I think you blokes misunderstood me – when I said to guess how they'd intersect, I didn't necessarily mean in the next chapter. Now I feel like this is a let-down. Sorry.**

**Oh, and by the by, His Excellency Samuel Morgan belongs solely to **Clar the Pirate**. I plum forgot to put a disclaimer in the last chapter. She designed him in response to my 102nd reviewer prize. So cheers for her if you liked him.**

**This chapter was very fun for me to write. Translation of French is at the bottom, if you need it.**

**Disclaimer: Joe Hisaishi's brilliant playing of "Spring" was a wonderful backdrop to the writing of the first part and probably added a distinctive something to it. (I suggest you google him and play the video of him playing "Spring" whilst you read this. It will add to the mood.)**

**EDIT: I completely forgot to warn you all that most of this chapter was written in the course of about an hour, and I didn't reread it all before posting. So, if you see typos, please help me out!  
**

* * *

_"What makes a person human? Is it how they look, whether they have hands and feet, whether they walk upright or not? Or is it their abilities, whether they are intelligent, whether they are capable of speech? Whether or not they can feel? _

_If you can't define a human, then how can you define a beast?"_

Only Wish --Ariel32

* * *

"_Venez_, Abe!" The man called, gesturing to his son and hiking the large bundle into a different position on his back. _H__â__te!_ If we're going to catch the wagon train to Terriot, we'll need to be faster than that!" 

The boy, no more than thirteen and smack in the middle of the awkward stage, appeared behind the man, panting and hefting a bundle of his own.

"Well_, pardon moi_," he said with mock offense, speech macaronic as it usually was, "I was picking up after _toi, Père_!"

"Sure you were; trying to catch a glimpse of – _machine? _– Briana – _est-ce que? – _Well, whatever she is, that's what you were doing, mark my words."

The youth ducked his blushing face, letting his dark hair fall over it.

"You're not in trouble, _mon fils_," the father said with a gentle smile, "but be careful, _oui_?"

"_Oui,"_ the boy mumbled. "I don't_ comprends pas, Père. Pourquoi_ do they _nous d__é__testent?"_

The man gripped his bundle tighter.

"That is why, _mon fils_," he said softly. "Our people of Rimra have always hated the Rijhaddites, and they... they have... _bidul..._ they have prejudice too."

"_De qu'a qui importance?_" the youth protested heatedly. "_J'adore_ Briana!"

"Don't speak with haste, _mon __jeune__ cher,_" his father sighed, "Especially if it brings on the Rimran. It will do good for us to travel Terriot for a while. They have nothing against us."

"It's not fair," Abe said sullenly, intentionally mispronouncing _fair_ to sound extremely Rimran.

"_C'est la vie,_" his father quipped, with a saddened glance at his son. "_Venez_, to town. We join the wagon train, then off to Terriot!"

"_Oui, Père. D'__à__ la _Terriot and away from _mon amour_."

"Abe, repeat that in the correct language."

Abe heaved a heavy sigh and glared at his father.

"Yes, Father. Off to Terriot and away from my love."

"Thank you. Recite your being verbs, if you please."

"_J__e ne pense pas_."

"I do. Speak, child."

The boy glared again and droned the words in a monotone.

"Am, is, ah, was, where, be, bee-in, been."

"Not quite. Am, is, _are_, was, _were,_ be, _being,_ been. Close, though. You're getting better. _Bon travail._"

The pair entered town to see the men gathered in the town square, blocking their way to the wagon train's departure. A chilled breeze whipped around them as the two slowly stopped, boots crunching softly in the thin layer of snow. The father addressed the others.

"What is this meeting about?"

The boy seemed to understand that this was bad faster than his father did. The steely glares were mostly pointed in his direction. The boy's eyes darted wildly around and he stepped closer to his protector.

"Your son is indwelled by a spirit," one man boomed, "he speaks in tongues and seduces our daughters."

"Now, Gerald," the father said placatingly, "His Rimran runs away with him sometimes, but that is hardly tongues. Rimran was his first language, he is still adjusting. As for seducing..." He glanced at Abe apologetically. "If any girl is in love with him, it is not for his charms or his looks."

"He uses the spirit and bewitches them!" a few others shouted with firey temper, lifting their fists.

"The only way to be rid of a spirit is – "

"Gerald, stop," the man commanded, his voice not betraying even a tremor of fear. "He is not indwelled, surely I would know."

"Unless you are indwelled as well!" a man screeched accusingly.

"Brandon! Enough of this senseless talk. Abe will stay far away from you for quite a length of time – we are journeying to Terriot, remember? Your daughters will forget him and your tempers will cool."

"We cannot loose a pestilence on our new ally," the booming man, Gerald, said, "and he will not endanger us any more."

"This is foolishness!" the man cried, stepping in front of his petrified son.

The other men began lifting large stones and formed a ring around them.

"Move aside, Antoine," Brandon grunted.

"The boy is innocent! Let him alone! We will go to Terriot and never return!"

"I wouldn't let a demon loose on my worst enemy, least of all our benefactor!"

"You are not speaking sense!" Antoine pleaded, the fierce tone gone now. "You know there is nothing wrong with him, let him go!"

A few men readjusted the stones' weight in their arms, faces imperturbable.

"Move aside, Antoine," someone repeated threateningly.

"Never!" he shouted.

"_Allez, s'il vous pla__î__t. Je ne suis pas la valeur cela,"_ Abe whispered, barely above a breath. His eyes shone with terror. "_Tu ne dois pas mourir._"

"What does the demon say?" they jeered, "is he whispering a spell in your ear?"

Antoine gripped his son's hand tightly.

"Innocent blood will rest on your hands if you do this!" he shouted at them.

Only a few hesitated, the rest lifted their stones higher. Antoine turned to Abe and whispered, in a voice that filled the frightened boy with strength.

"_Nous mourrons comme le martyrs. Nous duvon être courageux pour ta mère."_

The first stone flew through the air, and a triumphant call split the air before it was silenced.

"_Chéri!"_

* * *

"STOP!" Roderic bellowed, sitting straight up. 

Katharine yelped in half-asleep surprise as the bedclothes were jerked off, subjecting her skin to unwelcome and unexpected coldness. They settled around Roderic's lap, but he didn't notice as he vigorously rubbed his face and tried to wake up fully. The Rimran word – name, echoed in his mind as he calmed himself.

_I cannot remember the last time I have dreamt so vividly... Dreamt. Gift of dreams. That's what he meant. Well. That was unpleasant._

"Do you derive pleasure from this?" Katharine said tartly, "because I am not amused."

"My apologies," Roderic muttered distractedly, shoving the blankets back at her and getting up.

He wandered to the window facing east and leaned against its side, watching the slow ascent of the newly risen sun while he pondered. He could hear Katharine's even breathing, her sleep obviously not long disturbed by his escapade.

Dreams, the naiad had said. Dreams. He didn't specify what _kind_ of dreams, be they prophetic, historical, symbolic, or real. _It certainly looked real,_ he thought grimly. The Rimrans did _not_ like the Rijhaddites, generally speaking, and the thin layer of snow on the ground was accurate for this time of year in eastern Rijhad, near the Rimran and Terriotian border. The pair was going to Terriot as part of the delegation of farmers, which was real enough – the farmers were supposed to be starting their rounds of Terriot at the beginning of the next week.

_But the prejudice—no. Surely no one in Rijhad – none of my people – could be so unfeeling and heartless as to ruthlessly murder a father and son for no crime but their homeland. No, surely it was just a dream._

Having thus assured himself adequately enough to dismiss the dream with no more thought on the matter, at least for now, he left the window and dressed silently. After checking to be sure he really was presentable, he left to eat something before the nobles began to leave and he wouldn't have a moment's peace. Upon finishing an unrushed breakfast of oatmeal and cold milk which he ate with little pomp in the parlor, he took a mug of piping coffee and buttered toast up to Katharine.

"Here is your requested fare," Roderic said, setting the mug and plate down carefully on her bedside table.

She opened an eye, squinted in the light, and closed it again. He put a hand on her shoulder and shook it slightly.

"Rise and shine, dearest," he said with a moderate mocking tone.

This woke her up, and she opened both eyes to glare at him imperiously. He almost shrank away, and did remove his hand.

"Dearest, indeed," she huffed, taking hold of the mug and pressing it firmly to her temple. "My kingdom for relief from this headache."

"Shall I fetch the physician?"

"No," she sighed, "it is not terrible. It'll be good enough in time for the departing farewells."

"Twenty-five minutes," he reminded her, "then Dapper Dan is taking his leave."

"Dapper Dan?" she questioned, holding the mug to her opposite temple.

"His Excellency Samuel Morgan," Roderic clarified. "Dapper Dan is what most call him when he is not around."

She laughed croakily.

"I didn't think you one to tease an innocent, albeit arrogant and unpleasant, man whilst he is unawares. Or even whilst he is aware."

He shrugged guiltily.

"Twenty-five minutes, yes," she said, starting to slide from the bed.

Roderic left and sat in the entrance hall, enjoying precisely twenty-three minutes of peace and quiet before he heard Samuel approach. Terror gripped him when he saw that Katharine was nowhere in sight. Moments before the door was opened for Samuel, Katharine appeared at his elbow. Everything about her pale-blue ensemble was perfectly in place and she was not out of breath, nor did she appear in any way rushed.

"You are cutting it a mite too close," Roderic said, with a mild bit of reproach.

"I'm here," she said impudently, and kissed his cheek in a surprising act of rapport.

"A feisty pet you have, Roderic," Samuel observed as he approached, his lazy voice smooth and pleasant despite the shockingly rude remark.

"I am sorry you must leave so soon, Marquis," Roderic said, again skimming over Samuel's comments. _Odd. Katharine would say something that bold and you would be a nervous wreck. Yet, you take it from Samuel and others without a blink._

"As am I, truly," Samuel said. "The ball was fabulous. The women were beautiful, as to be expected, and I must repeat that your wife was completely captivating."

"She was—"

"She most certainly was."

"—and there were many other beautiful women, as you say."

"Most assuredly."

"I wish you a safe trip home," Katharine said genuinely, smiling at him.

He kissed her hand.

"I wish so as well, naturally."

After Samuel had safely left, the other dignitaries followed. Two hours of fluttering ladies and stiff gentlemen, all complimenting them warmly on the match and the ball, got dull after a while. Roderic kept up appearances, however, fearing the instigation of Katharine's wrath otherwise.

When it was all over, Katharine politely took her leave and Roderic tried to find Johnathon, to discuss how the ball went from his knowledgeable friend's view. Johnathon was not to be found, however, even after questioning the busy maids that Roderic met as he searched. No one had seen him since that morning. So, Roderic retired to the library, mildly concerned for his friend's status, and attempted to read once more. Due to his disturbed sleep the night before, it wasn't long before he began nodding off again.

* * *

Light threw Jody's features into sharp relief every time the sole prison guard lifted his lantern to assure himself that nothing was happening with his formidable prisoner. Contrary to his docile, even relaxed, appearance, Jody was thinking wildly. He had given himself a sturdy slap in the face upon arrival and gritted himself into not giving up. No matter what happened, Jody was determined that they would not kill him. Celeste might not ever recover from the blow, which almost meant more to him than his own life. His poor friend had been through enough. 

He shifted positions and the man raised his lantern, temporarily blinding him. Then he lowered it again, bathing the cell in darkness. Jody continued to think. And think. Hundreds of different monologues came to mind, as to what he could say on trial. He gave each contestant equal deliberation, then rejected them. There wasn't anything he could do, unless the judge decided to listen to common sense instead of bribery.

Jody considered the chance of that. The judge was an older man, father of three and grandfather of eight. He was usually fair and just, but occasionally accepted bribes if he was down on his luck. Jody sighed, knowing there was no way to tell at this point.

The lantern bobbed up, then down. He heard the clatter of a knock, and the scraping of the guard's chair as he went to the front to answer it. Jody listened to the conversation, though it didn't raise above a murmur for several minutes, until an emphatic statement rang clearly.

"_Let_ me see him!"

Jody stiffened; that was Celeste's voice. The guard murmured something, then heard Celeste stamp her foot and raise her voice both in pitch and volume.

"This poppycock is _going_ to come to an end, starting with _you. Let me see my husband, now!"_

Jody sighed in exasperation and grinned, though her reference to him as her husband made him think temporarily of Lee. He pushed those thoughts away as her enceinte form, hardly able to be recognized as such, stalked in. The guard stood a respectful distance away as she knelt by the iron bars, and hung the lantern on a nail on the wall so it would light the cell.

"I am so sorry this is happening," she said thinly, bravado spent.

The customary smile lingering just out of reach had vanished with the fire in her eyes. She looked old and battle-worn, but the grim set of her mouth and steel in her gaze told him she wasn't about to give up.

"It isn't your fault," he said lightly, with a shrug.

"Actually, it is," she reminded him, "but I suppose it doesn't matter." She hesitated. "About what you said last night—"

"Forget it," he interrupted quickly. "I was being stupid. I let my temper get away from me and... I'm sorry." The last two words got backed up in his throat and emerged as a petulant squeak

Celeste smiled, and her eyes even flickered briefly again with periwinkle flame.

"That's sweet of you. Thank you for apologizing, but you did have a few good points. I need to calm down and respect your feelings too. I never thought about you at all – I was a having a pity party for myself."

Jody shifted his weight abashedly.

"Well, I need to calm down and respect you too."

"One minute," the guard said, quiet but firm.

Celeste shook her head in annoyance, freeing some curls from their makeshift containment on top of her head.

"You have any ideas to get you out of here?" she asked, cracking her knuckles nervously.

"Not really," he said, laying a hand on hers to make her stop. He hated it when she did that. "I think we only have one chance to save my neck, and it's a slim one at that. You know where the judge lives, right?"

She nodded, eyes lit with understanding. She rested her chin on his rough hand, still on top of her own.

"You want me to talk to him? Convince him of your innocence?"

"Exactly, and act pitiful. Break down into tears halfway through speaking. Beg for pity on your child. Anything. Be dramatic. He's a grandfather; he won't be able to help feeling sorry for you. Hopefully he'll feel sorry enough to refuse the hefty bribes William and the others will be offering him."

"Bribes?"

Celeste looked skeptical.

"Yes, bribes. They couldn't legally convict me without bribes."

"If I'm that dramatic to the judge, though... wouldn't that be like lying?"

"No!" he cried, staring at her like she was certifiable. "You're just emphasizing some emotions is all."

Her lip quivered.

"What if I really break down in his house?"

He wanted to say "All the better!" but refrained. Instead he flipped his hand around and held her chin, making her look at him. Her eyes were starting to fill with tears.

"It will be okay, I promise," he said, feeling his heart break at the pain and grief in her eyes.

"Time to go," the guard said, taking her elbow.

"I promise too," she said as she stood, then left.

Jody sighed and sat back. Would life ever be normal again?

* * *

**Final word count: 2680**

**Surprised at the beginning? So was I when I thought of the idea. What did you think? Plot movement okay?**

Bingo7**: Poor Roddy; Katharine/I do torture him so. Thanks! I was trying to be descriptive, something I've never really excelled at. It's improved my writing a lot, too. I'm glad you noticed it's better than it was, because it most certainly is. Heh. Another sharp reminder than Nasap MUST be rewritten. --wince--**

FaylinnNorse**: Yes, Joseph Joseph. Imagine if there was more than one – how confusing would THAT be? People they talked to show up later? Um, possibly. I thoroughly enjoyed that chapter too, and I hope this is soon enough for you.**

Clar the Pirate**: Nothing like the real thing? Oh, that's a little bit sad. But, I suppose I made Samuel so ridiculous as to make him hard to actually exist. Heh. But, it was fun. Again, I hope your friend doesn't read this and realize that that's supposed to be him... Enjoyment beyond words is a fantastic thing to hear. I'm flattered! Thank you; I'm glad I didn't take the easy way either. Hm, good speculation. Have some crispy M&Ms too.**

Midnight Duchess**: I was wondering where you had gone. That typo was humiliating. Seriously, thank you for pointing that out. I can't even believe I was blind enough to miss that. --shakes head sadly-- Another shout out to you, and I'll throw in a bag of plain M&Ms too, since you find those niggly little errors so often. I'm somewhat surprised you keep reading... Yes, I was wondering what to name the chapter title and I thought of you (the only one who seemed to appreciate the LOTR for chapter 8) so I wanted another semi-famous statement that would pertain to this. Someone suggested "Masquerade", which made me immediately finish the song-line in my head with "paper faces on parade". It stuck. If you have rhymes, please tell me! I was hoping people could come up with some close-ish rhymes, because I'll have someone throw them at Joseph later, most likely.**

daring2dream**: She could be starting to respect him, you never know. Just keep reading and we might figure out what's going on in that convoluted mind of hers. The gifts were fun to think up – and I love foreshadowing. --laugh-- I think she has Rod confused all the time anyway, but yes, I do agree.**

Celestial Seraphim**: My villain? OH, you mean Samuel? Shucks no, he's not a villain. He's a funny character **Clar** thought up and I stuck in, for comedic value only. Don't fear the future too badly – look past the darkness to the happy ending! (You could apply that to real life too, now that I think about it) Addictions are bad, but I'm not complaining!**

SIMBA**: You're back! Nagging does work. What do you know. 9: Rod and Katty do need help. A lot of it. 11: Heh, no. I might need him. 12: Why does everyone ask?! Yes, the same. Good speculation. Have some crispy M&Ms.**

ElvishKiwi**I was just wondering where you'd slipped off to! Thanks for reappearing! No kidding, about Rod. It's about time. I like Katharine too, actually. Joseph. Yes he is. Hm, obvious seeing is not necessarily all believing. Good speculation! --hands crispy M&Ms--**

shadowinRW**: Good ideas! My, you all have good ideas! --hands crispy M&Ms--**

Emma A. Piper**: Fairy gifts can be downright lovely, if they're nice fairies... Heh.**

**Translation of French:**

_Venez_: Come

_Hâte_: Hurry

_machine_: what's-her-name

_est-ce que_: is it that?

_mon fils_: my son

I don't _comprends pas_: I don't understand (technically "I don't not understand," but that was intentional for Abe's weak grasp of English. He substituted not for ne and thought it would work out the same way.)

_De qu'a qui importance_: What does that matter

_bidul_: what-you-call-it

_J'adore_: I love

_mon jeune cher_: my young dear one

_C'est la vie_: That's life

_Je ne pense pas_: I don't think so

_Bon travail_: Good job

_Allez, sil vous plaît. Je ne suis pas la valeur cela. Tu ne dois pas mourir_: Go, please. I'm not worth this. You don't have to die.

_Nous mourrons comme le martyrs. Nous duvon être courageux pour ta mère_: We will die like martyrs. We must be brave for your mother.

**Reese cup latte for everyone! (who reviews) No coffee? Here, you can have hot chocolate instead.**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Elvish Kiwi** and **Ellsbeta**, for pointing out my typos! And thank you, **Emma A. Piper **and **Mazkeraide**, for helping with the French!**


	14. Confrontations

**11 . 11 . 07**

**It is time.**

* * *

_"I returned my gaze to the high-ranking stranger and said, 'I would now bid you a good day, should I have wished it on you. But I do not, and likewise, I cannot do so.'"_

Beautiful –Intricacy

* * *

Fingers flipped through the pages, filled with neat slanting handwriting. Tired eyes grazed over the case, wondering at the same time what Amelia would make for dinner that evening. The firm mouth absently sounded out the words as he read them, familiarizing himself with the problems. Worn shoes scraped the stone floor in a rhythmic pattern, and an old heart twinged with guilt for the ruling he would make. 

A knock sounded on the door.

"I'll get it, Amelia," Judge Hammond called, groaning as he stood on achy knees.

The knock sounded again, quickly and timidly.

"Coming, coming," he mumbled, walking slowly to the door.

When he had released the latch and the door swung open, he was faced with a frightened woman, covered in an old jacket that she gripped with white knuckles.

"Yes, my dear?" Hammond asked, the coarse voice softening at the pitiful sight.

"Judge Hammond?" she asked, looking up at him. "Is that really you? You haven't changed at all!"

His gnarled eyebrows knit together as he tried to remember the pretty face, almost angelic with the curls of golden hair framing it and the bright green eyes that sang of spring.

"Celeste!" he said in surprise, finally recalling it.

She smiled tightly, and he noticed the new lines on her young brow. He gripped her hand and kissed it, then put an arm around her shoulders and brought her inside.

"You must be frozen," he said, wondering what could have brought her here. "I'll ask Amelia for some tea."

"Oh, you don't have to," she said quickly, stilling her shivering shoulders. "I'll be alright."

"Nonsense," he insisted promptly, ushering her toward a chair by the fire. "Amelia, Celeste is here!"

"Is she?" came a cheery voice from the kitchen. "I'll have the tea ready in half a moment dear, after I've put the vegetables on."

Hammond sat down across from her and she shrugged off her heavy coat, keeping her eyes solidly on the floor.

"What is wrong, child?" Hammond asked after a minute's awkward silence. "You're scared. Is Lee alright?"

She looked up at him sharply and he suddenly remembered everything.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he stumbled, mentally berating his failing memory. "I'd forgotten. Is this about Jody, then? Did you see him today; did he bother you?"

"I saw him," she said in a shaky voice, staring at her hands which were nervously twisting around. "But he didn't bother me. I came to beg you to let him free."

Hammond started, and his eyebrows came together again.

"Free the swine?" he asked, surprised.

Celeste fixed him with a frigid stare.

"He is not a swine. He is the best friend a man could ask for, and better than most brothers."

"Your story does not match," Hammond said slowly, pulling the sheaf of papers off the table behind him. "It says here that Jody killed Lee in battle and forced you to marry him while you were out of your mind with grief. Since then he has mistreated you sorely, and dishonored you in public."

Celeste's eyes darkened and she cracked her knuckles.

"That is a lie," she said evenly, though she was evidently struggling to hold back the tears. "He married me with my consent to protect and provide for me, in light of my being unable to care for myself with our little child on the way."

Hammond's eyes widened and Celeste corrected herself quickly.

"Lee's and mine."

She smiled tightly again, patting her stomach fondly.

"It's changed everything. Jody wasn't planning on marrying me until he realized I was pregnant, and during the winter months, that could be especially hazardous. Especially with the Philettins raiding at random."

She crackled her knuckles again and bit her lip, to keep her chin from trembling.

"Oh Hammond, I miss him," she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I can't believe how much it hurts sometimes. I know he would want me to move on, and I _can_ do that. I've been doing it so well. But then there are those nights when I turn over and expect Lee to be there, and he's not. And Jody's been trying, he really has, but sometimes I just get so frustrated I take it out on him. He's not perfect, and I know we can work this out, but he's hurt so badly too. Lee was his best friend, ever since they were kids. It was always Lee and Jody, then I joined the pair and he made room for me without protest. I would always wonder what would happen when Jody got married too, and now – oh."

She stopped, realizing that tears were cascading down her cheeks. She wiped them with her sleeve and lowered her eyes from Hammond's.

"He won't be able to find the woman of his dreams. He sacrificed his whole future to protect me and the baby. I feel so unworthy. Now everyone hates him and thinks he's a terrible wretch, and it's all my fault. If only I'd let him talk, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

She choked and buried her face in her hands, giving in to wracking sobs. Hammond encircled her with his comforting arms, soothing her cries with gentle words. After several minutes, she looked up, eyes puffy and bloodshot and tears mingled with mucus on her face.

"I need a handkerchief," she mumbled, cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

Wordlessly, Hammond pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her. Celeste took it and wiped her face clean, still sniffling.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to break down like that."

Hammond quickly wiped the tears from his own cheeks and composed himself.

"That's quite alright, dear. It looks like you two have gotten yourself into some of your old mischief."

She giggled, and looked up at him.

"Do you remember what Jody and I did to you when we were nine?"

"Refresh my memory," he said, searching the dimming recesses of his mind.

But the girl suddenly stood and started walking. As she stood, her appearance and dress changed and the background faded into something much more familiar to Roderic's dreaming mind.

* * *

It was Katharine walking down the corridor, flat slippers hardly making a noise against the cold stone floor. Her warm burgundy dress trailed on the floor behind her, a change from the earlier morning's baby blue sun dress. Her stride was measured and unrushed, as though she had a destination but was in no hurry to get there. 

Her face was passive and haughty, though there was no one with her to convince of her superiority. Despite her cool mask, her eyes were unguarded and shockingly expressive. Every emotion she felt was clearly displayed there: wary understanding, draining frustration, secretive triumph, and simple exasperation.

She turned and grasped the door handle; her eyes hardened to twin obsidian orbs without a thought. When the door opened, Roderic had the distinct out-of-body experience of seeing himself sleeping with _A Servant's Tale_ balanced precariously on his knees. Katharine's facade was momentarily broken and she seemed to be stifling a laugh as she laid a hand on his shoulder.

Roderic did not awaken.

"Roderic," she said quietly, shaking his shoulder a little, "Roderic, wake—

* * *

—up." 

Roderic snapped awake with a gasp. Katharine was shaking his shoulder, just as he had dreamed. She was in the same pose, with the same facial expression, wearing the same dress.

"Oh, hello," she said, smiling, though it did not reach her eyes. "You're awake then."

He stared at her, bewildered._ If that dream was real, then— _The weight hit his stomach again and he slumped backward.

"I had no idea," he murmured.

"About what?" Katharine asked, sounding genuinely interested, though Roderic knew she could sound genuinely anything if she really wanted to so it didn't give any indication of what she really thought.

"You like biographies," he said without looking up. "You know of Rijhad and Rimra's contention."

"Naturally. One of the most long-standing prejudices in history," she supplied promptly, "and it was the source of many malicious crimes on both sides. Your grandfather, I believe, made an agreement with the king of Rimra to prohibit immigration between the countries in an attempt to stem the angry flow of people. Since then, anyone who crosses the border for any reason save marriage (and some of those, even) has been ruthlessly killed."

Roderic blinked.

"I had no idea it was that bad."

Katharine shrugged with sardonic ease.

"Royalty hardly ever cares for such a blight on their peacemaking records."

"We have to put a stop to this!" Roderic said, eyes flashing.

"How?" Katharine asked sarcastically, not even blinking in surprise to his odd outburst. "Authorities hate the Rimrans as much as the common people do."

"There has to be _something_ we can do!" he shouted, this time startling them both slightly.

Katharine looked like she might be mildly impressed at his double show of strong emotion. Roderic was humiliated and wary, wondering how she would respond.

"Why do you care?" she asked, after a brief pause.

"The people will be happier," Roderic said cautiously.

The look on Katharine's face vanished so completely and with such rapidity that Roderic had half a mind to discredit its existence. It was replaced by an uncharacteristic twinge of anger.

"The people?" she said, her voice suffering evident strain. "Is that all?"

"Um, yes?" he said tentatively, unsure where he had erred so grievously that her flawless mask would be broken by her anger.

She stood wordlessly and scooped a curtsy, obviously intending to leave.

"Wait!" he cried, surprising himself for the third time in one sitting, "what is wrong?"

"Nothing," she said convincingly, though her face still betrayed her frustration. "Excuse me."

"No, I will not excuse you," he said, beginning to get used to this forceful mood that had gripped him. "Stay here and tell me what I said that upset you."

_This could be a very very bad idea, Roderic,_ he thought, chewing on his lip nervously. Katharine's eyebrows lifted but she made no arguing comment.

"As you wish."

She sat again, elegantly, the thick maroon material carefully touching the floor, but only just. She leaned forward slightly and rested her chin on her hand like a philosopher of old as she examined him with her impenetrable eyes. He quailed under her scrutinizing gaze, wondering if she could read thoughts as well as appearances.

She began at last, in clipped, businesslike tones that indicated her sharp feelings on the matter better than flowing anger would.

"Your lack of a personal agenda, cultivated by both personality and an overexposure to others' needs your whole life, is exceedingly aggravating in its unassuming humility. How can you have a conversation with anyone who has a bare few opinions to call his own? If any at all? Do you not care at all for yourself, Roderic? Have you no preference that is not based on, or at least influenced by, someone else's opinion?"

"Oh," Roderic said breathlessly, feeling as though Katharine had just punched him, hard.

Her eyes continued to examine him as he fumbled for words to say next. Her posture and tone had not changed through the entire speech, but it seemed to him that every word brought him closer to a fiery pit of anger she was holding barely out of sight.

"Thank you, you may leave," he finally managed.

"Actually, I would like you to answer my question," she said, making no motion to leave whatsoever.

_Her question?_

He couldn't seem to get past that sentence. He didn't know what to think about her questions. And which one was she referring to? _What should I say? My preferences. That is what she asked last._

"I do indeed have preferences of my own," Roderic said, noticing that his voice dropped to an octave that was almost menacing.

"Really?"

Katharine looked intrigued, but Roderic caught a haughty gleam in her eye.

"Enlighten me, my lord. I do wish so much to learn more about you."

Roderic opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. What opinions were his own?

Katharine's mouth, which had been pasted into a look of honest supplication, twitched into a smirk.

"Exactly. Strip away the family, the advisers, the friends, and the countrymen, and what are you left with? Who are you? Have you once made a choice based on what you felt like doing? Have you ever _not_ stifled a thought or feeling because there wasn't unanimous approval on it?"

A shiver ran through him, and he almost felt Samantha's hands on his shoulders again, her sweet breath teasing his senses... He practically threw himself back to the present to confront Katharine's triumphant sneer.

"I thought not. Regretting it, are you?"

Roderic glared and rose to his feet, an unfamiliar feeling burning inside of him. Though he had not felt it before, he could immediately place it, as though something from a dream long ago. Hate.

"I do not desire to be the man you would admire," he said through clenched teeth.

"You're getting there, my love," she said softly, rising to her feet as well. "Hate is most often a matter of personal preference."

With a derisive smile, she kissed his cheek and left the room. After Katharine's dress flickered out the doorway, Roderic realized that his fists were clenched. He fought against the wave of wild hatred to unfurl them. After he had done so, he collapsed into the chair again, energy spent from the moliminous task. He tried to sort out his thoughts past the throbbing insecurity Katharine had just reignited.

_I have opinions, _he seethed, _I am my own person, not just a sequacious fool. _But even as he thought that, he knew it wasn't totally true. Maybe it wasn't true at all. He couldn't honestly think of a decision he had made that did not involve at least a few moments of thought to make sure it would not be at all controversial. _By the crown, and the decisions in the first place were based on someone else's opinion!_

When he thought about it, it did sound rather pitiful.

_But I don't want to be like _her_ either, _he countered, _and no one else has a problem with how I act. If I had followed my desires (buried as they were) I would be involved in a first-class scandal. No. Everyone is happier if I just continue to walk along the cutting edge of public opinion. No one truly cares for my opinions, only my actions._

He tried to ignore the thought that maybe _he_ cared.

"_To be royalty, you must remember that you belong to the people more than they belong to you. Make yourself something to be proud of, a life they can hang their hat on, no matter how bad things get."_

"_Hang their hat on, mommy?" he asked seriously. "Why?"_

_The woman laughed and rumpled his hair._

"_That's just an expression. It means make your life something they can trust to always be there, and always be true."_

Good advice from his solid mother, before she even started to appear unwell. Roderic, at nine, had understood what she meant more than most boys his age would have. He treasured her advice even more when she died a year later, and based his life's actions on it.

_Katharine cares naught for anyone's opinion; her decisions rely on her own thoughts. Look who she is: a spiteful, cynical, and selfish – stop it, Roderic, _he told himself._ You have no right to judge her._

He couldn't stop himself from savagely thinking:

_Ha, __that__ was my opinion._

* * *

**Final word count: 2609**

**Was Celeste's confession too stereotypical? Unrealistic? Was Roderic out of character?**

**(Disclaimer: subtle quote from "Something to Be Proud of" in there.) **

Bingo7**: You're quite welcome. I hope it warmed you up. The true nature of man can be so selfish sometimes that they hardly know they're being selfish. --sigh-- Roddy is getting a touch better, though, yes.**

ElvishKiwi**I see your point about the beta, but really, I just don't want to deal with the delay. Of all the excuses, that's the worst, I know, but my other feeble defense is that I didn't even read over the chapter before I posted it. If I keep having lots of nasty typos, I'll reconsider, though. Good grief, now I sound like a pig-headed idiot. I'm just going to move on with your review before I punch myself. Celeste is lovely, and spunky. I love her. And no, the dreams haven't appeared before (the naiad just gave him dreams last chapter) but they'll come into play again.**

Midnight Duchess**: A gerwaist does sound like an uncomfortable article of clothing. Maybe I should invent it just to make Katharine suffer; poetic justice or something. I looked up rhymes on a rhyming website, but they didn't have any there. Thanks, I like the French too – I adore French. Yes, that line never sat well with me either, but for the life of me I don't know what to do with it. Cadmus is currently struggling with it; hopefully he'll come up with a good alternative.**

cinnamon-sg**: Welcome! I'm glad you're enjoying it. I hope you keep reading (and reviewing) because this will be an adventure! Thanks for the fave, too.**

daring2dream**: Twist, probably. Maybe. Hm. I don't even know. Just what Roddy always wanted; something weird to happen to him! (Kidding, of course.) And yes, they did die. --teardrop--**

SIMBA**: It was confusing? So sorry. Well... they died. Here's your answer about Jody; hope you liked it.**

Emma A. Piper**: Yeah, I knew the _pas_ was not right, but I didn't want to just have _comprends _in there by its onesies, and I figured I could get away with it, since he's obviously learning English too, for messing things up in translation. But yes, you're right, it was wrong. Ah, _bon travail_, got it. Thanks! And_jeune,_ yes, now that you SAY that, I know it's right. --Cadmus rolls eyes as if to say '_I_ knew it all along'-- Thank you very much for the help; I'm no expert by any stretch of the imagination, and having someone who knows what they're doing help me out is wonderful. I'll fix all that; you get a cute little shout out. I'm glad you liked it, other than my obvious incompetencies with the beautiful language...**

FaylinnNorse**: Very much better late than never. Thank you for reviewing! Yes, he's dead. Tragic... but realistic. Samuel made me laugh too – **Clar** is brilliant. "Aw!" is good! --laugh--**

Clar the Pirate**: Oh. Okay. Not sad. --rectifies-- A seemingly uncalled for intervention by the prince himself would be extremely awkward, and very hard to explain. Shew. Jody's contradictory personality type is fun to write. --smile--**

**I just uploaded a whimsical, humorous oneshot that you should skip over and read. It will alleviate the sadness this chapter might have thrust upon you! It's called **Highest Room, Tallest Tower**. Please review that too! AND, as if that isn't enough, I've decided to start a little series of Biblical oneshots, portraying well known (or not so well known) scenes from the Bible in vivid detail. I'd be honored if you'd check that out, too. It's called **Real People**. Reviews always appreciated!  
**

**Kit-kat Blizzards © for reviewers! (I'm not sure they exist, but that's alright; they'd be good.) A Dove © dark chocolate bar for speculators! And don't forget the prize if you can figure out how the stories will intersect – it's valid from now until I say otherwise.**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Midnight Duchess**, for pointing out some minor issues in the dialogue! **


	15. Keeping Up Appearances

**22 . 11 . 07**

**Another (mostly) sweet filler, with purpose.**

* * *

"_They talked of everything they could think of, and many things they couldn't."_

Glass –Mazkeraide

* * *

Jody assumed that Celeste had done her job well when he saw the verjuice expression on William's face as he entered the courtroom. His visage was clouded with maelstroms of righteous anger and wounded justice and he drummed his fingers on the table, glaring at Jody. William's obvious show of emotional upset nearly granted Jody complete ataraxia about the proceedings, which he had spent the better part of the night brooding over in case Celeste did not succeed. It was obvious, however, that the Judge did not accept William's bribes, because William had always worn his heart on his sleeve. 

Celeste looked so pale and stricken that he might have mistaken her for a ghost, being held in the warm clutches of Hallie, William's wife. She couldn't seem to bring herself to look at Jody, but Hallie caught his attention and rolled her eyes in the direction of her fuming husband.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed, looking sympathetic and pained.

He managed half a grin before he was told to sit and the court began. Much to his relief, the ceremony flew by at a hurried pace. The Judge listened to both sides of the case and adjourned for ten minutes before calling the court back to order and proclaiming Jody a free man based on insufficient witness and strength of character. He was allowed to go home that day, after organizing the details of paying the Judge for his time.

"Good job pleading," Jody muttered to Celeste as the kindly butcher snapped the reigns over the horses' backs.

"Thanks," she whispered guiltily, "I didn't plead very much because I sort of broke down before I could say much of importance."

She shivered in the deepening cold and hugged her bare arms tightly. She apparently hadn't grabbed her sweater the night before, (Jody hadn't noticed, as he had been too preoccupied at the time to mention it, or grab Lee's jacket for himself) but it wouldn't have done very much against the wind anyway.

Jody made a mental note to buy her a jacket after he filled an order or two and got a little more money. He shrugged off his outer shirt to give to her but she protested immediately.

"Oh don't, you'll freeze!" she exclaimed.

"It's not that much protection," he said, tucking it around her shoulders. "Don't tell me you went to Judge like that."

"No, I borrowed Hallie's old coat. Really, I'm fine."

In spite of her insistence, she did pull the shirt around her bare arms like a blanket.

"I don't want it," he said belligerently, and looked at the passing landscape.

"You're too chivalrous," she said with a sigh, then scooted up against him and laid her head on his chest.

He hesitated before putting his arm around her back and over her lap, encircling her with an added band of warmth. She smiled and mumbled something about not getting enough sleep, before burying her head in his shirt and drifting off to sleep. He rested his chin against the top of her head and watched the grey sky through the blonde screen.

_Things aren't really too bad,_ he thought, reassuring himself a little. _Compared to where you were last night, you don't have anything to complain about. Now you're free, and innocent in the sight of most of the villagers. Blacksmithing will bring in a good load, once all your old customers realize you're back in business. You've come to an agreement with Celeste to live in peace with each other, and, golly! Christmas is coming!_

* * *

Several weeks passed smoothly, and found them sitting in the kitchen next to the fire. Celeste added a stitch to the small quilt and held it up in the light, frowning. 

"I'm not sure I like that," she murmured. "What do you think, Jody?"

"Hum?" he said, startled, and lowered his pipe.

He had been thinking about the best way to repair Markin's ice-skates, and had just decided to reforge them, when he was interrupted.

"What do you think of this scrap of fabric?" she repeated, tilting the quilt so he could see it better.

"I don't know, Celeste. If you think it looks good, I'm sure it does." He paused, and his voice changed tones. "D'you realize it's two weeks 'til Christmas?"

"Yes, I thought about that," Celeste said, turning her attention back to the stitchery.

"What do you want to do for Christmas?" Jody asked, bobbing the pipe up and down between his fingers and watching the wispy trail of smoke dissipate.

"I'm not sure. Kayla invited us to their place in the evening for their Christmas dinner and party."

"You feel up to going?"

She smiled broadly and tapped her significant midsection.

"Just because I look like an unbalanced potbelly doesn't mean I am one. I feel fine. And it would keep me from having to do all that cooking. I feel fine enough, but stamina is something else entirely."

Jody looked at her seriously, setting his pipe down. Surprised at his sudden gravity, she met his eyes.

"Celeste, I would be happy with bangers and mash."

"I know," she said, laughing a little to break the moment, "but it's the principle of the thing. I _do_ want a tree, though."

"Alright," he considered, "I could possibly arrange that."

"Let's go!" she cried, hopping up with surprising legerity. "I'll pull my sweater on!"

"Um, alright," Jody said slowly, taking a last draw from the pipe while he looked outside. "The weather is nice enough, and it isn't very cold. We might as well."

He extinguished his failing pipe and placed it on the mantle while Celeste muttered about smoking being a bad habit through a mouthful of sweater. He ignored her as usual and lifted Lee's coat from the hook, wondering how he had failed to remember a coat for Celeste last time he had been in town.

"Take this," he said to her, cutting off her murmured lecture mid-sentence.

She finished pulling the sweater over her head and gave him a look.

"You'll need it, Jody."

"Celeste," he said, a smile beginning to tug at his mouth for some reason he wasn't sure of, "you and I both know that I'll end up forcing it upon you anyway, and if you start with it, I'll layer up more now."

She huffed dramatically and glared, but took the jacket. He pulled on another flannel shirt and grabbed a blanket before escorting her out to the wagon-turned-sled. They packed in snugly after hitching up Bradley and Lacey and headed toward the wood. Celeste seemed to relish the relatively balmy (though still frigid) wind on her face, since the rest of her was quite protected by her sweater, coat, and blanket, along with a pair of sturdy boots.

"How far in do we have to go?" she asked nervously as they entered the evergreen forest.

"Not far," he assured her, slowing the horses down. "What do you think of that tree?"

She squinted ahead in the direction of his finger.

"I don't think that will fit. The ceiling is only just taller than you are."

"I think it will fit," he murmured to himself, and hopped off the sled.

He strode over to it and looked at Celeste questioningly.

"It's taller," she said definitively.

Jody disagreed, but didn't argue. _It doesn't matter, _he told himself, _it's just a tree, anyway._ He had noticed lately that he had been getting better about _not _saying whatever was on his mind.

"What about this one?" he offered, thumping the trunk of one next to it that was much shorter.

"Too skinny," Celeste said promptly. "How about that one?"

"Which one?" Jody asked, looking around for any potential candidates.

"That cute little one over there," she clarified, snuggling deeper in her cocoon of warmth.

After a few more moments of searching, Celeste confirmed that he was standing by the correct tree. He sized it up with incredulity.

"Little?" he exclaimed, "I'll bet it's taller than you!"

"It's not either!" Celeste argued. "Look, it only comes up to the bottom of your ribs."

"So do you," he countered.

Celeste released an aggravated sigh and threw the blanket off, clumping her way over to him. She stopped on the side opposite him, arms impudently akimbo as she glared over the prickly top.

"I'm taller by a full three inches," she announced smugly.

"I know," he said, just as smugly.

A moment of surprise was quickly succeeded by a loud squeal and she stomped around the tree then poked him in the chest.

"Jody Maurice Flannlin! You just wanted me in the snow, didn't you?"

He laughed in reply, a deeply rooted sound that penetrated the crisp stillness of the forest.

"Oooh!" she said in frustration and waggled her finger under his nose, her green eyes crackling with unshed laughter, "You just wait 'til I—"

He licked her finger and she squealed again, then tackled him. He yelped in alarm, tumbling backwards into a drift of snow with her on top of him. She laughed madly and struggled to a sitting position on his chest, pinning his arms down under her boots.

"Big strong blacksmith toppled by a girl 5 months pregnant," she taunted, "isn't that a story."

"Celeste, get off me," he said conversationally.

She stuck out her lower lip; the lugubrious effect was almost too much to bear. He chuckled again, but glowered at her in an attempt to show his seriousness. He could have knocked her off, but he was afraid to hurt the child. He had therefore rendered himself incapacitated, and though he knew Celeste wasn't going to do anything, it still made him feel weak.

"Celeste Felise," he warned, "get off."

"Not until you apologize for making me cold!" she sang irritably, making herself comfortable as she leaned back against his bent knees.

Apologies came much easier to him now than they had before, so he had very little issue spewing one out now if it would get her off him.

"I'm sorry for making you cold," he said immediately. "Now will you get off me so we can pick a tree?"

She appeared somewhat disheartened that he didn't drag out the argument, but returned to her usual riant demeanor and clambered off. She then offered her hand to help him up but he raised his eyebrows at it, pushing himself to his feet.

"I'd knock you down again. What were you thinking, attacking me like that? You could have gotten hurt!"

"You worry too much," she said flippantly, and pranced off.

* * *

Another week passed at the castle Meilleur before their "honeymoon" was over and the notes from battle came in droves. Roderic, appalled at the minute and bloody details they contained, had recently taken to letting Johnathon read them all and summarize them at the end of the day. This decision was made on a whim, as he read one particularly descriptive narrative and felt distinctly ill afterwards. 

Roderic tried to let the subject of the argument drop, but Katharine persisted in referring to it subtly and giving him wickedly significant looks. Roderic had never had issue with his patience until he met Katharine, and was now having an almost constant struggle to keep himself from lashing out and giving in to the fiery anger that flared up whenever she smirked at him.

Alas, not even the most well-defended stronghold can last forever. His temper, along with the bonds of civility that had been wrapped so tightly around him, snapped one day and he exploded in a loud retort. She replied in turn, rudely, and the discussion ended in a shouting match. After the initial conflagration, these loud disagreements occurred almost daily, exacerbated by his continued dreams.

Almost every night he would watch someone else's life, usually Rijhadite or Terriotian, and realize the extent of their problems. Terriotians were literally starving to death, selling their possessions, and even their children, for a few loaves of bread. Katharine argued that they were doing the best they could, but Roderic couldn't get their hopeless, emaciated faces out of his mind.

On the other side, dreaming of the peasants' life stirred up new longings he hadn't ever realized he had been lacking. He yearned to feel the snow fly out behind him as he ran barefooted like the Rijhadite schoolchildren, and he craved a holiday celebration that meant more than festive decorations and a Christmas Ball.

After they moved to their new home, the much anticipated Palace Allearsi, the gaudy decorations went up as his spirit went down. Katharine goaded him more than usual, and it suddenly struck Roderic that when he fought back, he was playing into her hands.

Following that realization, he stopped responding to her painful phrases altogether, and reacted in passive rebellion. He began asking for meals he knew she didn't like, and dressed to clash with whatever she wore.

To all appearances, he was drawing further into his shell, and hardly spoke to anyone: even Johnathon. His eyes were always found on the walls and floor, as if he was scrutinizing the wreaths and ribbons strung throughout the glistening white marble halls. Anything he said to a servant was clipped and surly, and his downtrodden mood began to affect everyone except Katharine, who was seemingly delighted in her victory.

Johnathon decided that it was time to take action.

* * *

**Final word count: 2237**

**It's short. It's seemingly random. Yet, I felt the need to put a non-depressing Jody and Celeste moment that also showed a bit of their progress in making life work between them. And so, Christmas tree picking came to mind. What did you think?**

Celestial Seraphim**: 13: Keep your sensors up. 14: --thumbs up-- Katharine is horrid. Excellent deductions, Watson, though your reviews lacked their usual elegance and insight. Welcome back, however! I wondered where you went last chapter!**

ElvishKiwi**: --a sort of gaspy 'oh' sound-- It almost made you cry? I am beyond flattered. I am floored. (any odd sort of pun was not intended). Thank you seems so insignificant when used to reply to that praise. I am honored that you think so highly of it. Thank you. Oh, you didn't get it? --glare at Cadmus-- I wasn't sure how else to meld it in. Maybe I shouldn't put a bar there? It was supposed to just change into the next dream. See, Roddy dreams about Celeste and Hammond, then it morphs into a dream about Katharine walking down the hall, so he doesn't remember the first one when he wakes up. You love Katharine, **Celestial Seraphim** hates her: holy scones. I do hope the ending will satisfy you both! About the biographies; she mentioned liking biographies the last time they talked in the library. After she made a snide remark about **_**A Servant's Tale.**_** You analyze my dear characters so well. I am again flattered that you would devote that **_**much**_** energy to them! I am glad they read like the flawed, human beings I imagine them to be. Thank you so much – you have definitely made my day.**

Midnight Duchess**: mins-trell. Eh. I can see how it would work, but I don't really like it. --hands it over to Cadmus-- I'll let him sit on it a while and see if he can sketch up anything. Yargh. Lee and I's child bugged me too, but I couldn't think how to fix it. Today, I realized that "Lee's and mine" would work. Duh. I fixed that. I'm not sure what you're talking about with Hammond – he had a lot of contractions, and I didn't think his language was too formal, more than a courtly old man's would be, at any rate. But I did soften it up a bit, so you can reread it if you want and let me know if it's better. I wasn't sure about Celeste. Can you point out the bad places? Yes, your correction makes sense, but the word certifiable is just so fun, one of my favorites. Alas. --sigh--**

FaylinnNorse**: Katharine was being a bit cruel, yes, but Roderic did ask for it. Obviously he didn't know what he was asking for, but she wasn't even going to say all that 'til he asked her to stay. Who's to blame? Nice old guys make me smile, and I can't help but stick them in there every once in a while. Happy? Erm, I dunno if this is happy. But it's happy-ish!**

daring2dream**: Katharine got the understanding at the ball, thought she doesn't appear to be using it, does she? Snippety little lady. Samantha, ah, now there's a character. She's much more exciting than most of the others. Yes, she'll be back eventually; I can't help myself.**

Bingo7**: You did promise, and then you followed through! I love people like you. Oh good; character discovery is good, and that's what I was going for in chapter 14.**

Clar the Pirate**: All the time! Well, no, not really; I was referring to her reaction more than her actual situation. Oh, good description of Roderic's character – I hadn't thought of that one. Thanks! And the speculation was wonderful too. --hands over a Dove © chocolate bar--**

SIMBA**: Thank you for your opinions! Here's a Dove © bar for speculation! --hands it over--**

**GENERAL INFORMATIVE NOTE: I'm going to be away from computers for about three weeks starting on Monday. Obviously, that means no new chapters. Sorry! I'll post as soon as I return.**

**Happy Thanksgiving! Enjoy your turkey and all that jazz. You'll get a plentiful spoonful of my mother's famous "Purple Salad" to augment the rest of your feast if you review! (It's not actually salad, just to let you know) It's good, just trust me on that.**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Ellsbeta**, for pointing out my typo! **


	16. Short and Sweet

**25 . 11 . 07**

**Very short chapter. Sorry. But hey, bet you didn't think you'd be getting another one, did you?**

* * *

"What's going on, Roderic?" Johnathon asked carefully, sliding the sheaf of papers back into the worn twine binding. "You're not acting like yourself." 

Roderic shrugged and stood, then glared into the fire.

"If that is all the reports, I will be going now."

Johnathon put a hand on his arm to keep him from leaving.

"No, wait," Johnathon said, trying to catch Roderic's eye, "really. What's going on? The whole castle is upside down because of you."

Roderic inhaled the smell of pine needles, hating the aroma. He always had, but had never bothered to mention it before. With one smooth motion he grabbed the pine wreath from the mantelpiece and flung it into the fire.

"In the name of reason!" Johnathon cried as the wreath burst into flames, "you are not leaving this room until you tell me what's happened to you!"

Roderic shrugged again, staring at the fire solemnly. The vestiges of red ribbon curled and crumbled into ash. He didn't even know what had happened, but he felt a sharp pain at the thought that he was dragging everyone else down. That had not been his aim. What had his aim been?

"Did you and Katharine have a fight?" Johnathon asked.

Roderic didn't even chuckle at the irony of the statement.

"We fight almost every day," he said, his voice taking the flat tone of someone who is informing a family that someone has died.

"I know that," Johnathon said, an involuntary shiver running down his spine. "But why did you start fighting? Was there a huge disagreement?"

"Not really," Roderic said slowly, "but she said something..."

And before he quite knew what was happening, he told Johnathon everything about the initial argument and what had happened since then.

"But that cannot be everything," Roderic finished, disgusted at the inadequacy of his words, "because it is not as if I care what she thinks anyway!"

"You care more than you think you do," Johnathon said softly. "The strong-willed opinion of someone you have to live with contradicted everyone else's opinion for the first time and left you wondering who to follow. You tried to walk the line and fell, pushed by Katharine's open mindedness. But, your inherent desire to please someone pushed you up again and – " he broke off to chuckle, " – I think, this time, you might have actually decided to please yourself."

Roderic opened his mouth but Johnathon kept talking.

"_And that's alright_. Here's a piece of news for you, Roderic; you're allowed to be your own person. _Don't_ throw the do-what's-best-for-the-people junk at me. The people need a strong leader who won't be swayed if the council is corrupted. They need someone who has enough confidence in himself to stand up for what's right, even if everyone thinks it's wrong. Think about it: you've changed. Would you have thrown a wreath into the fire a few weeks ago? Or asked your friend who you know is slogged with chores to do something else, just to save your sanity?"

"I do not think so," Roderic said, mouth easing into a slight smile. "I apologize for encumbering you, by the way. I thought about it, and it did not seem like you were really doing that much. Is it really that bad?"

"I'm fine," Johnathon said, shoving his comment aside, "The point is, you knew that reading all those yourself would put you in a permanent funk, so you delegated. _Delegating is good. _And thinking about yourself is an added bonus. And look at you right now; you're wearing red? Didn't your mother always say that it paled your complexion? Something tells me this is not a bout of Christmas cheer."

Roderic glanced at the red doublet he had scrounged from the back of his closet.

"I like red," he muttered, looking at the ground.

"And," Johnathon said triumphantly," you're not afraid of Katharine anymore, are you?"

"I suppose I am not," Roderic considered, and the momentary embarrassment flitted away, leaving an almost amused expression on his face. "There never was anything to be afraid of. She is just a woman, and there must be a reason she acts like that."

"Exactly. Just remember not to get big-headed. Still take other things into consideration, but don't be paranoid." Johnathon released his arm and wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "My little Roderic is growing up at last."

Roderic punched his arm, knocking the other man, who hadn't been expecting it, off balance.

* * *

"The fires you use are much hotter than I am accustomed to. How do you stand the heat?" 

Jody almost dropped the tongs he was holding at the unexpected voice.

"Tobias? Is that you?" he asked, not daring to look away from the metal that was starting to glow.

"It is indeed," came the chuckled reply, and he heard a stool being scraped across the floor.

Jody drew out the cherry red ice-skate blade and began to hammer it carefully into a better shape.

"What brings you here?" he asked between blows.

"Wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas, and give you a few more orders from Albertte," the man replied. Jody could feel his eyes on him as he worked.

"Merry Christmas to you too, and thank you," Jody replied, examining the blade and lowering the hammer. "Good enough for now."

He took off his gloves and smiled, holding out his hand for the man to shake.

"It's nice to see you again, Tobias."

"I'm happy to see you're not wasting away either," Tobias said. "Celeste looks wonderful too. Never seen a happier woman carrying around that much of a load."

"I hope you told her she looks wonderful," Jody groaned, sitting down on a stool. "She keeps fretting about how big she is."

"Of course I did, and I think I made her blush," Tobias said, propping his elbows on his knees. He peered over his spectacles at Jody. "How are you?"

"We're getting along," Jody said easily. "Since the trial, we're mostly just thankful to be safe here in the cottage. I'm a little worried about the Philettins – they haven't raided recently, so I'm on edge waiting for another attack."

"We all are," Tobias sighed. "There's no predicting that ragtag army. You sure you'll be alright here by yourselves?"

"Brady and Lacey are fast, and I know how to fight," Jody said by way of reply. "You had some orders for me?"

"Oh yes," Tobias said, handing him a small bundle of papers. "Mostly nails, to patch up holes in walls, and a few snow shovels too, I think. When do you think you'll have them done?"

Jody scanned through the papers quickly and tallied up work time and days.

"I should have the nails ready later this week, and the shovels before Christmas. Oh, a hammer for Lawrence. I'll bring that with the shovels."

"I'll let them know," Tobias said, standing. "And Jody?"

"Hm?"

Jody looked up from the papers.

"You're doing the right thing, you know."

Jody smiled.

"I know. Just keep telling me that."

Tobias laughed, and Jody joined in. They shook hands warmly and Tobias left, refusing Celeste's offer to stay for dinner.

"Marthe would skin me alive; she's spent all day cooking a pork roast for me," he pleaded, hugging her. "I'll come back another time. Take care, you two!"

They waved him off and hurried inside, shivering in the chill.

* * *

**Final word count: 1243**

daring2dream**: I liked the scene too – it really brings out the fact that they've been friends for a while, which is hard to display when they're both angsty and morose. Boo for Katharine, yay for Johnathon. Good idea about the Christmas party for the peasants! Hm... --Cadmus starts sketching--**

Emma A. Piper**: 14: Better late than never! Katharine is so terribly unpredictable sometimes, yet you always know just what she's going to do. Isn't she aggravating? --smile-- I love writing her. Oh goodie; two reviews for the price of one! Cadmus is preening and artfully concealing whatever it is he's working on from me, as if to say I'm not worthy to know whatever His Royal Arrogance is dreaming up. If you'll excuse me, I must go and grovel. 15:**

Celestial Seraphim**: Sweaters and coats are modern? Oh dear. What would they call a coat back then? I thought jacket was more modern than coat. --worried face-- And I just assumed sweaters had been around forever, since knitting isn't exactly the newest thing on the block. I dunno. Okay, calm down a little bit; Roddy/Katharine is coming, but don't expect a huge explosion in her face. At least, not yet. Dry as a prune? Oh, that's not good. Here's hoping you'll get re-hydrated --clink--.**

ElvishKiwi**: Well, with or without Thanksgiving, I hope you had a great Thursday! --smile-- Purple Salad is actually more like... purple pudding, so you were half right. It has a varied list of ingredients that if I told you what they were you'd wrinkle your nose and say that it sounds awful. But once you put them all together, it's really not that bad at all. It's unique, and tasty. **

**Drat it, about that line. But I think I've found something that works better. Would you mind checking it out and letting me know?**

**I like Katharine because of her flaws too. She is an almost stereotypical proud princess, but she's a little more nasty than usual, and a little less cruel. She just... irritates, and generally makes his life miserable because she can't stand him. She's like you? Don't tell **Celestial Seraphim**. He might kill you. --wink--**

**Yes, Roddy is just plain annoying when he tried to please everyone, which is why it was so teeth-grinding for me to write him at the beginning, and still make him likeable. That was hard. But now, it's a touch easier, because he's not quite so paranoid about upsetting people.**

**No, Katharine doesn't have the dreams – the naiad gave them to Roddy only. Katharine got better understanding, though it doesn't seem like she's using it. Brat.**

**Word choice is something I try to take a lot of time on, and I'm glad you can tell. I'm an inspiration? I'm all warm and fuzzy inside now, thank you.**

**They are brave: they don't really have a choice. (It is funny, isn't it? Though sometimes I call her Katty, because I find it refreshing to poke fun at someone so full of herself) The royals are very selfish, in different ways. I like how they turned out, I really do. This was a story I started on a whim, with the intention of just scribbling it out to get it off my mind and be done in a month or two, but it's getting more in-depth. Hum. Well, I'm still hoping to be done before Christmas, but we'll see how that works.**

**I'm glad the couples are different: I tried to find two opposite situations, and put together four completely different people whom no one would ever confuse with the other, to create a realistic story. --gulp-- I hope it ends well. --laugh-- Oh dear, burning dinner is not good. So sorry I distracted you for that long. **

Mazkeraide**: --from very flattened position on floor-- Um, so, my French was really really bad. --beneath the floor--. Thanks for correcting me so thoroughly; I've not taken very much French at all, and it's been a while, so I mostly used a translator site to help out, hoping I could get the basic jist of it. Thanks for cleaning it up, though. I'll fix it again. You get a shout-out too, joining everyone else who's helped me on that chapter. I'm glad you liked it in spite of the awful French (--cringe--) and I do hope you keep reading. That's pretty incredible that you read the whole thing on your phone. You're a dedicated reader.**

SIMBA**: Sure, green bean casserole will work too. --scoops you some-- The second part was "eh"ish, I agree, because nothing really happened. I just kind of told you what happened instead of showing you, which isn't something I like to do very often, but _that_ would be hard to show. We get back to normal next chappy.**

FaylinnNorse**: Sooner than you thought! Can you blame Roderic though? She's being a brat. He's retaliating, at least.**

Tami**: Welcome! You can severely dislike Katharine; just join the club. I didn't make you wait too long! Thanks for reviewing, I hope I hear more from you!**

**Little Kissables for reviews of this little chapter!**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Clar the Pirate**, for pointing out my mistake! **


	17. Merry Christmas Eve!

**24 . 12 . 07**

**Merry almost Christmas! Have a sweet Christmas chapter that actually coincidentally coincided with the actual holiday. Kind of nice how those things work out, isn't it?**

* * *

_"__Go on, kiss her." A couple others joined in. _

_Sage stared, completely dumbfounded. Before she knew it, Dominick had grabbed her from behind the neck and pulled her into a long, passionate kiss._

_Many of the girls in the audience gasped in shock, others began to cry. The rest of the people clapped happily, enjoying the sight of young love. The commodore met the governor's eyes and shared a smile with him._

Discovering the Sea –GypsyDream (not recommended)

* * *

"Here are your ice skates, Markin," Jody said, handing the elated boy a pair of trim, repaired skates. 

"Gee wilickers, thanks Mister Flannlin!" the boy said with as much dignity as he could manage while hugging a pair of ice skates.

"You're very welcome," Jody said fondly, tugging a lock of his too-long hair.

"Don't forget to tell your mother we're coming for dinner!" Celeste shouted after him as he darted toward the pond.

"I won't!" he hollered.

Jody and Celeste looked at each and burst into laughter.

"I'll leave a note," Celeste said with affected pomp, and let herself into the house.

"Don't fall," Jody cautioned, gripping her elbow and steering her around the toys strewn about where she couldn't see them past her stomach.

"Thanks. Where's a bit of paper?"

"I dunno, it all looks crusty or ripped to me."

"Well find some!"

"Fine fine, I'm looking."

"Is this paper? Oh no, it's a potato peel."

"Does this look safe?"

He held up something that might have been paper, before it was spilled on, stepped on, dried off, and used as a scoop for a meatball that fell onto the floor.

"That'll do. Here, I found a stick of charcoal."

He gave her the paper and she cleared a spot on the table to scrawl a quick note. He looked around the area as she wrote. Blankets were draped over the chairs haphazardly and a stack of crumpled paper dolls were shoved in a corner dangerously close to the dwindling fire. A small wooden wagon train snaked under the table, around a rocking chair, and disappeared into the next room loaded with dolls. A pile of carved farm animals were tottering near the edge of the table. Toys and toppled stacks of clothes littered the floor and chairs, with brooms and rags thrown about hopefully.

"You think he was supposed to clean this up?" Celeste asked, setting the charcoal down and brushing her hands on her dress.

"Probably," Jody said absently, thinking.

"I wonder if our living room will ever look like that," Celeste said thoughtfully. "This little one might be an absolute terror!"

"Not if he's related to you," Jody said, smiling. "Now come on, let's get home and decorate the tree!"

"I wanted to decorate the tree _before_ giving Markin his skates," Celeste reminded him as they walked back out to the sleigh.

"I know," he said good-naturedly, "but then prime skating time would have been over!"

"It would not!" she said, accepting his help to get her into the carriage. "Prime skating time isn't 'til the afternoon! One o'clock at least."

They spent the rest of the ride arguing about when was the best time to skate.

* * *

Johnathon's conversation inspired confidence in Roderic that the man had never had before. He began to talk to Katharine again, and the conversations they had grew gradually more lighthearted as the days passed. The Christmas ball was a success, and Roderic found it much more comfortable than the first ball. 

After bearing all the nobility for a second time (His Excellency Samuel Morgan only grew more insufferable every time they saw him) all remainders of ill-will were deracinated between the two. Listening with gritted teeth to gasconades of the boastful dukes' hunting brought them together like nothing else could. Mutual complaining is a bonding experience, because it usually leads to laughing about it later.

Roderic learned that she had a very nice laugh.

He smiled, ushering her into the greenhouse while she laughed.

"What are you doing, Roderic?" she asked, turning to look at him. "Please don't tell me you're copying Lord Droopy-Eyes's tale."

He gestured around the corner, and she turned it, then burst into a fit of laughter.

"Roderic!"

A red cloth was spread over the ground with a woven basket in the middle. Candles surrounded it, lighting the otherwise shadowy greenhouse. Plants had been pushed around the spacious cloth to form an alcove of greenery.

She turned to him with a genuine smile crinkling her eyes. Roderic had finally discovered the difference between a real smile and a fake one – the eyes. It had made his life much easier.

"Johnathon made the sandwiches," Roderic said with a nervous grin. "He insisted. So do not be surprised if they taste odd in any way."

Katharine knelt next to the basket, lifting the lid and extracting two sandwiches, one of which she handed to Roderic.

"Aren't we dining in style?" she asked, biting into the sandwich.

Roderic paused, unsure if that was a serious remark. He took a bite of sandwich to buy some time.

"We are indeed," he finally decided on, "when compared to some."

"Touché," she said and took another bite. "Why did you do this anyway? It isn't my birthday."

"When is your birthday?" Roderic asked, realizing he had no idea when it was.

She paused and frowned, then answered.

"June twentieth. I almost forgot."

The large leaves of a nearby plant hung over their heads and filtered the stormy light into a dusky grey-green. Except for the occasional howl of the wind, it really was easy to believe that it was spring. Katharine's eyes shined some of the green light, making them appear less fathomless than usual.

"You never answered my question," Katharine said, pausing in her careful nibbling. "You seem to like doing that."

Roderic disregarded the possible reference to _the_ argument.

"You distracted me," he defended. "You mentioned your birthday."

"But you should have been polite and answered the question before moving on," she pointed out, taking another bite of the unidentified sandwich.

"Perhaps you are right," he conceded. "And the answer is: I do not have a real reason. I found Lord Jared's story amusing, and I know you did too. I thought you would find a reenactment humorous."

"Well I do hope no cavalry regiment runs over our picnic," she retorted with a half shrug, observing the greenhouse. "This is an interesting array of plants."

"It is a collection from Rijhad and Terriot, from what I am told," he said.

She stood up suddenly, putting her half-finished sandwich on top of the basket.

"Up with you – they must be rearranged."

"_We_ do not have to move them," he said. "Let me call a servant to—"

She sent him a look of such scorn that it halted his sentence.

"These gardeners, servants, whatever they are, are obviously idiotic and I want none of their service. Doubtless they won't arrange them to my satisfaction, even if I am breathing down their necks. Now, up with you!"

He stood, to appease her irritation, but couldn't refrain from one last comment.

"But your dress; do you not want to change?"

"These contrasting colors are giving me a headache," she said impatiently. "Now get over here and help me lift this plant."

Roderic joined her by a tall potted tree with broad leaves and succulent yellow blooms and knelt with her to grip the pot.

"Where is it going?" he grunted as they lifted.

"Between those two shrubs," she said, gesturing with a tip of her head.

They put the tree in its new position and she instantly pointed out a pale green plant to fill the tree's vacated spot. Two hours later, they were sweaty and dirty, but the greenhouse was arranged to Katharine's approval. They sat down again on the blanket, now both ravenous, and finished the picnic they had long ago forgotten.

"Oh!" Katharine said suddenly, straightening her unladylike slumped posture. "Merry Christmas."

Roderic, who had collapsed, facedown, after eating his sandwich, propped himself up on one elbow and grabbed an apple.

"It is not Christmas," he said with a chuckle. "That was three days ago."

"No," she replied, narrowing her her eyes and taking his apple, "the ball was three days ago." She chomped the apple deliberately and handed him a banana. "The ball was on the 22nd, so that makes Christmas today."

"Ah, you are right," he said, feeling foolish, "I must have combined the two in my mind."

He peeled the banana and took a bite of the soft flesh.

"So?" Katharine said expectantly.

"What?" Roderic asked, pausing before he put more of the fruit into his mouth.

She rolled her eyes, an aggravating habit she had picked up from the maids.

"Aren't you going to give me a Christmas present? Or at least wish me a Merry Christmas?" she asked.

"You took my apple, and I gave you a picnic," he reminded her, "and Merry Christmas. Where is my present?"

She smiled impishly and tossed the half-eaten apple at him. It hit him in the nose and he lay, stunned for a moment while she loosed peals of laughter.

"Katharine!" he shouted in surprise when he regained his voice, and started to sit up.

She screamed girlishly and sprang to her feet, dashing away. Roderic had intended only to ask what had possessed her to do that, but she was obviously in a strange mood. He shook his head. _Women._

"Katharine, come back!" he called, standing up.

Silence greeted his entreaty. He rubbed his now-sticky nose and contemplated leaving, after cleaning up the picnic. _Chase her,_ something urged. _Go on, have some fun for once. Goodness knows it is nice when Katharine relaxes, so play along. Besides, leaving her all alone in the greenhouse would not be any better._

He paused. There was nothing wrong with chasing her.

_Do you want to?_

He growled playfully and took off down the corridor, finding her behind a leafy flowering plant. She slipped away before he could touch her, sticking out her tongue.

"Slowpoke!" she taunted gleefully, then screamed as he leapt and caught her arm, dragging them both to the ground. He began to tickle her with menace and her yelp was lost in uncontrollable abderian laughter.

"Stop it!" she cried, then exploded in another fit of laughter. "Roderic stop!"

"I will teach you to throw an apple in my face!" he laughed, wiggling his fingers more. "I am the man of this – this – castle!"

She squirmed free and started to weave away unevenly, still laughing at the aftermath of his tickling.

"You know I'm the one in charge!" she called, and he jumped to his fee,t running after her again.

"You are _not_ in charge, woman!" he shouted demeaningly, catching up with her again and tackling her.

He quickly pinned her arms down and put a knee on her stomach.

"I win."

"Physically," she retorted, "but I could beat you in a battle of wills."

"You could not."

"Could too."

"Could not."

"Could too."

"Could not."

"Could too."

"Could not."

"Could too."

"Could not."

"Could too."

"I believe I would win a true battle of wills," Roderic said, "not this petty stubborn foolishness. I will choose my battles wisely and win when I choose to fight."

Katharine was silent, and Roderic began to wonder if she was furious. She opened her mouth and laughed loudly.

"Well met!" she said when she had finished laughing. "Although I don't agree with you. Naturally."

"Naturally," he agreed. "Talk means little. Actions and good intentions are the true measures of character."

He felt her stiffen almost imperceptibly under his touch.

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," she quipped, then seemed to remember that he was on top of her. "Get off me."

"Hm," he lazed, raising his eyebrows and pretending to make himself comfortable, "why should I?"

"Because it's rather awkward," she said in annoyance.

"Is it?" he said, startled.

The thought hadn't crossed his mind. Now that he thought about it, it made sense. _In the name of peace, I have pinned her practically spread eagle to the floor!_

"Fool," she muttered, half in jest, as he pulled himself off of her and helped her gracefully to her feet. "Thank you. And the picnic was a lovely Christmas present."

"I am still waiting for my present," Roderic said. "Giving me back my own apple hardly counts."

"You're right," she mused, tapping her lower lip in thought. "Oh I know," she said after a moment, and kissed him decidedly on the lips.

Roderic stared at her, bewildered, and his mouth parted slightly in shock. It had so surprised him that he didn't have the time to realize what was happening until it was over. Now his mind was speeding through instant replays trying to find a logical reason for her to do that.

"You've got a bit of lipstick on you," she said helpfully, "just there."

He took out his handkerchief and wiped the smudge she had indicated.

"What exactly—what—Ka—what were you thinking?" he stammered, tucking the handkerchief away.

"Men always like kisses," she said offhandedly, then winked. "Especially from me."

_And you said I was awkward._

"Things change when I'm in charge," she said flippantly.

It took him several moments to realize he had said that out loud.

* * *

**Final word count: 2160**

**It's a different perspective of Katharine, I understand that. And this chapter and the next one she seems very strange, but please take it all in stride. There is a reason for everything. Meanwhile, reviews expressing that are appreciated. And what did you think of the Jody and Celeste portion?**

Celestial Seraphim**: Ugh. Research. According to Wikipedia, knitting sweaters was very common in the 1600s, so I think I'm pretty good with that. Also according to Wikipedia, the word 'coat' was around from the Middle Ages, and at least medieval and renaissance ages used 'coat' meaning a garment of clothing intended to keep you warm (rather than a 'coat' of mail). Jacket didn't really come into common use 'til the 20****th**** century, if I'm reading this right. So, I think I can get away with coats and sweaters, because this is fairy tale land. --smile-- Oh ick. Of course Roderic won't like Katharine right away. I think I just felt a hundred brain cells simultaneously hang themselves at the thought of such awfulness. She is a spoiled malicious brat, and she'll get what's coming to her.**

Mazkeraide**: Oh no, don't get me wrong. I appreciate being corrected. I'd feel more awful if no one pointed out my mistakes, because to me that would mean no one actually cares about my story. So yes, I'm very thankful. Reading things on larger screens are usually more pleasant, yes. **

daring2dream**: Even balances are very good with people in charge. Emotionally unstable rulers are **_**very**_** bad indeed. I like tying in seemingly inconsequential ideas.**

ElvishKiwi**: Wow. Let's start out this reply with the fact that I squee'ed and smiled my face off for about five minutes before I even started typing this reply. That was undoubtedly one of the grooviest things anyone has ever said about my story. You read it to your **_**mum?**_** And she **_**liked it?!**_** And not only did she like it, but she's **_**eager for updates**_**? Tell your mum that she made an author across the world squee in delight, would you? And please regretfully inform your dad that dictionaries aren't easy to digest. I'm glad you feel better; I was sick recently and it was no fun at all. And as for the reply being long, well, your review was so long I couldn't make it any shorter. I hope you liked this chapter! (And I hope your mum likes it too!)**

Emma A. Piper**: 15: Yes, Christmas just keeps getting earlier and earlier every year, doesn't it? Caring is a fault/virtue that Jody seems to have a large helping of. 16: Oh, bratty is bad. Bratty Roderic. That would be terrifying. That is a cute bit, isn't it? I like it too.**

Clar the Pirate**: 15: I think affirming comments can still be made, even if the work is obsolete. --grin-- That's the mother in me showing through. And yes, I do understand the buildup-to-an-anticlimactic-chapter complaint. I did that on purpose, believe it or not. I am attempting a more realistic shot with this story, and sometimes we stress and scheme and plan and sweat over something that ends up being no big deal at all. I'm sure Jody would appreciate the swoon if he was still a bachelor. --smile-- 16: I'm glad you liked that bit. I did too. It was a very dramatic bit in my writing that I was scribbling at a hurried pace and shivering delightedly to myself. The new, freer Roderic is so much easier to write. He's a bit more real too. Everyone goes a little crazy sometimes. Roddy probably wore paler colors; I never really touched on his wardrobe, but they seem to go with his personality. Anything to blend in. Gangy? Awkward? Starchy? Old? Good heavens! Did you know anyone named Roderic, or did you just read a character like that? I'd personally not heard the name much before, and so in my mind I was starting with a clean slate. Changing your perception of the world, am I? That's flattering. Oops, no it's not supposed to be the same. Actually, that chapter didn't have one. I forgot to delete it. Thanks! You get a shout out.**

**Okay, I created a poll and put it on my profile page. I want to know how old you think the characters are. It is not a trick question. Please vote! **

**Home made fudge to reviewers!**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Clar the Pirate**, for pointing out my typo!  
**


	18. Camels Don't Like Straw

**25 . 12 . 07**

**Merry Christmas! Here's a present from me to you. Enjoy.**

**We learn a touch more about Katharine here, I think. She is not out of character, I promise. Merely knocked slightly askew of her usual advantageous position, and so retaliates in an over-antagonizing fashion that is almost ridiculous.**

* * *

"_Oh, please don't use such cheesy phrases I'll get sick again," I snapped at him. "Just keep your month shut, and I'll keep my guts to myself."_

The Haughty Princess --Bingo5

* * *

Roderic woke up, startled, when Katharine shifted positions on the bed and tugged the blanket off his feet. The vision of a Rijhaddite schoolhouse faded into oblivion when he blinked a few times, trying to take in his surroundings. He was, since the naiad's gift, able to recall dreams with utmost clarity if he wished to, but his sleep-ridden mind was preoccupied with pulling the covers back and going to sleep again.

Through half closed eyes, he groped and yanked covers onto his feet and laid back down. There was another moment or two of movement, and he suddenly felt very warm, but didn't give it another thought and slipped back into slumber.

He enjoyed a few hours of peaceful sleep, before he was woken again by the cold. This time, all over his body. He groaned and tried to feel the blanket, but it wasn't within reach.

"Katharine, what did you do," he muttered groggily to himself, still trying to find the blanket.

"Wake up," Katharine said coldly.

Her tone pierced through the morning blur and peeled his eyes open.

"In the name of peace," he groaned, gazing blearily out the window, "what could possibly have gone wrong now? The sun has not risen yet!"

"Do you know in what position I woke up this morning?" she asked in a clipped, precise voice.

It shocked Roderic completely awake and he noticed for the first time that she had evidently pulled the blanket off him and shoved it onto the floor.

"No," he said carefully. "Should I?"

"You of all people should!" she seethed. "You were practically all over me!"

"Katharine, I have no idea what you are talking about," he said in the best calming voice he could conjure so soon after waking up. "I am sorry for any discomfort I might have caused you while I was asleep."

"Your arm," she continued harshly, "was wrapped around me, and your hand rested, very intimately, on my stomach. If it was any higher, I would have this marriage annulled."

"Please, Katharine," he said, stifling a yawn. His heart sped up anxiously at his serotine understanding of her plight. "You must have rolled over in the night. It was cold. It _is_ cold – the fire has gone out, see?"

She looked incapable of believing such a benign story. He chewed on his lip in worry and tried to think of some way to make her believe him.

"Please believe me when I say with all sincerity that I do not think of you – ah, in that manner."

He paused and cleared his throat a little in embarrassment.

"I am happy that we are friends and I want nothing more than that."

She considered him with her bottomless eyes for a moment, and he was distinctly aware of his dishabille: he did not usually wear his pajamas when speaking with her, as she was usually sleeping when he came in to bed. It made him feel like a schoolboy who told a wild story that was, while true, very unbelievable.

_What man would not try to take advantage of her? She, even after waking up furious, is beautiful. She is always beautiful, no matter what she wears, or what expression she dons. _

Roderic had heard that she had had suitors since the age of twelve, yet had refused every one. Rumors said she had a lover, while other just said she had good taste and wouldn't settle for anything less than the very best – at least for her country, if not for herself.

_And here I am, a stumbling prince, somehow married to this goddess of beauty. Anyone with a brain would try to romance her. _

There wasn't a logical reason why he shouldn't. If you're going to be married, you might as well try to make her fall in love with you, right? But Roderic didn't put enough stock in his own abilities to try that route. He'd already broken one girl's heart without meaning to. The last thing he needed to do was break his own as well. And falling in love with a gorgeous woman who couldn't care less was not a good way to keep one's heart intact.

Her stiff face melted without warning.

"You don't lie. I see that as a character flaw in you, but it's one thing I can rely on. Very well then."

He relaxed. _One more fight won without coming to blows. Huzzah!_

She pulled the blankets off the floor and shoved them at him.

"Go back to sleep. And sleep well."

"Better, I hope," he said, closing his eyes and yawning, "and dreamlessly."

* * *

"Celeste, I'm begging you—" 

"I don't want to hear it, Jody."

"I don't want to hear your arguments either! Would you just, _please—_"

"No!"

"I'm not going to either!"

"Fine, leave it to rot, then!"

She turned away from him and busied herself at the stove. Jody placed his palms down on the table and pressed, hard. He tried to regulate his breathing and not get angry. Tempers had been running short lately, and he was determined not to lose it first.

"Celeste, please, for the baby."

She whipped around, rag and plate in hand. The angry splotches on her cheeks just emphasized how thin and pale they were. The viand being argued about sat in the middle of the table, growing colder by the minute.

"How are we going to get any money at all if you're too weak to work?" she pointed out, again.

"I keep trying to tell you that I'll be fine," he said evenly. "Would you look at yourself? You're wasting away!"

He clenched his hands, resisting the urge to pound them on the table.

"Please stop fighting me Celeste. You need more food."

She glared at him, then turned back to the dish she was scrubbing furiously. He knew that he had lost this one, but he decided to give it another hour before he ate. He stumped out to the forge with remarkable silence, considering how irate he was at her stubbornness, and sat by the cold remnants of the last fire. He buried his face in his huge hands and let out a deep-set groan.

The arguments had been getting worse and worse as time passed and the food dwindled. Constant blizzards had made travel impossible, and the only reason they weren't worse off were fearless neighbors who ventured out on their fastest horses in between storms, carrying bread and meat.

Even with the unexpected gifts, the rationing was leaving Celeste underweight for her exponentially growing burden. However, she refused to hear any talk of giving herself more than Jody.

"_I'm smaller than you, even with the child!"_ she argued hotly.

To compensate, Jody sneaked more food onto her plate every chance he got. When he was caught, there was another argument. Eventually, one of them would give up and eat the disputed portion, but then he was so drained from arguing he wasn't sure it was even worth it.

"Why is she so bull-headed," he muttered to himself angrily. "I'm enough of a character for both of us."

The blacksmithing tools held no answer for him, lying on the shelves in the orderly rows Celeste must have put them in.

* * *

**Final word count: 1213**

**It's a short one, Mr. Grinch... Ugh, Dr. Seuss is catchy. Well anyway. What did you think? I'd like honest opinions on Katharine especially.**

FaylinnNorse**: Jody and Celeste, in general, do a much better job of getting along, yes. Well, for the royals, Christmas isn't really a big deal. They already had the party, but they're not with family they don't really have traditions, you know? Sad, but it's just like an extra birthday to them. I'm glad you thought the kiss fit – I did too. Poor Roderic! Thanks for voting!**

SIMBA**: Seeing Katharine in a better light is nice, isn't it? Nice to know that she actually can get a wild streak like the best of us.**

Celestial Seraphim**: Yeah yeah. --waves hand around-- Research really isn't all that bad, as long as you're interested in what you're researching. Heartwarming, eh? I'm glad it had that effect. --smile-- Have the best Christmas ever, too!**

**I'll be handing out mugs of hot chocolate for reviews on this. You have your choice of double chocolate, raspberry, and mint.**


	19. Darkness, My Old Friend

**31 . 12 . 07**

**This is my longest chapter to date. It was fun to write, too. Hopefully it will give you something to read while waiting for midnight if you're the reclusive type. --guilty smile--**

* * *

_"__Fortunately, Evie was a princess- trained since birth in what to do if someone is attempting to kidnap you, and she reflexively screamed."_

A Small Slight Figure --Brown-eyed snowy owl

* * *

Jody paced the room frantically, utilizing the brief moments of silence to think of a better plan. His mind was still in a whirl from the sudden onset of the parturient woman's illness, and he couldn't seem to fully grasp just what was happening and what he could do about it. He had never studied medicine, and the only things he knew about taking care of the sick were when he was sick as a child and his mother cared for him. 

According to those standards, he was doing quite well. He was keeping cool rags on her forehead, and on her stomach too, just in case. Who knew if the baby was running a fever too!

But she had not moved from her prone position on the bed for nigh on twenty-four hours, and her skin was only getting hotter as the hours passed. She neither woke up nor shifted in her sleep, and her breathing was so shallow he thought, several heart stopping times, that she stopped breathing. The only sign of life she displayed was when she moaned for minutes at a time, and then when utterly silent.

He was flummoxed, and worried.

Another moan sent him shooting to her side and he changed the now-hot rags, dunking them in the bucket of ice water, the one thing they had plenty of. The groan slid up the scale until it was a whine, and her face clenched in pain, but still her eyes stayed closed.

"Celeste, it's alright. Wake up, girl. You're just a little sick, that's all," he said quietly.

This had no effect on her cries.

"Come on girl," he said, putting a hand on her arm, "you better not go into labor or anything. Please."

The moans faded into the insufferable silence again, but she started breathing deeper.

_What would I do if she went into labor? I would… um…_

_Good golly. _

_Oh golly._

_I'm going to kill the kid._

Celeste suddenly stopped breathing, but only for a moment. A few more hitches, more like convulsions, and she rolled over so Jody had to brace her from falling off the bed. Then, before he could have a heart attack in panic, she vomited all over the floor.

In relief that nothing worse had happened, he pushed her onto her back again and slumped against the bedframe, ignoring the mess.

"Good golly. I thought you were done for. Or I was done for. Someone wouldn't have come out of that alive."

He gulped, and jogged into the kitchen for more rags to clean up with. Celeste remained on the bed, as though she had not moved. Her eyes flickered under their lids, like she was watching a horse race in her own mind.

* * *

"Rise and shine, Roderic!" 

Roderic snapped his eyes open, regardless of the blazing light, and sat up. Katharine stood next to the bed, looking bemused. She had obviously been up for hours; she was fully dressed and perky.

"What time is it?" he asked, panicked, and practically flung himself off the bed toward his wardrobe.

"Twenty 'til eleven," she replied, and laughed, "where's the fire?"

He threw the doors of the wardrobe open and rifled through the clothes, grabbing two articles that would probably fit.

"I have a meeting at ten 'til eleven!" he cried, running into the bathroom.

"A meeting?" Katharine echoed.

"About the war," he explained through the closed door. "What we should do next, all that."

"Well, you don't know what to do," she said, "the generals will decide. Why do you have to go?"

The door sprang open and Roderic flew out, impeccably dressed but with hair still disheveled.

"I am the Crown Prince, Katharine; when my father steps down, I will be the one having to grant or refuse the generals' requests," he explained rapidly, opening the door.

"Wait! Your hair Roderic!" Katharine exclaimed.

"I do not have time to do anything about it," Roderic said, stepping out.

Katharine grabbed a comb from the malachite-inlaid washtable and chased after him.

"Just hold still a moment and I'll make it presentable," she said, leaving no room for argument.

Roderic stopped his quick pace down the hall and stood still, letting Katharine drag the object painfully around his head for fifteen seconds.

"Done. Best I could do without water," she said, backing up.

"Thank you!" he shouted, half-jogging down the hall again.

"You're welcome!" she yelled back, rolling her eyes and suppressing a grin.

* * *

After the slightly awkward midnight escapade, Katharine seemed to let her guard down even more, as long as the conversation remained on superficial topics. Roderic tried to avoid anything that reinstituted her unsettling mask, and obligingly kept conversations in check. 

The weather continued to lessen in intensity, almost thawing the crisp of ice that had endangered the outside paths since the beginning of December. Katharine, who had grown up in Terriot, was used to shorter, milder winters. She was driven stir-crazy by the severity of the chill, and so on the first warmer day in February, she declared that they should go for a ride on the horses and finally use those riding outfits the fairies made.

"Your horses," Katharine grunted, shoving herself off the stablehand's shoulder and swinging her leg over the side of the horse, "are much smaller than ours. They're almost ponies!"

"They serve us well enough," Roderic said with a shrug, accepting the stableboy's assistance in mounting his own horse.

"I'm afraid I'm going to break the pretty lady," she said with mock nervousness.

"You could not break anything," he said, and nudged his horse into a walk. "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't care," she said, keeping up with him and gazing around at the half-frozen outdoors. "_Anywhere_ to get out of that stuffy castle. Do you think there's anyplace that's dry?"

"Johnathon mentioned a cave he found that was fairly dry. He also said that he left his lantern there, and I have matches."

"Let's go!" she said eagerly.

"Your wish is my command, fair lady," he said magnanimously. "To the West, and into the setting sun!"

He kicked the horse into a full gallop, leaving the uproarious laughter and disdainful, "But it's midafternoon!" behind.

They reached the cave in an hour of easy riding, and Katharine deemed it "very quaint" before sliding off her horse and leaving Roderic to tether it up. As he led the horses to the nearest sturdy-looking branch, he couldn't help but observe the scenery.

The melting snow and frost left the obscure path in a miserable state for walking, with frost encrusted mud puddles waiting in every dip. The air was a pleasantly chilly temperature though, with not even a hint of a cold wind. _It is a perfect day for riding, if you do not have to clean the horses' hooves afterwards._

"Look at all this moss!" Katharine exclaimed from the far side of the cave mouth.

Roderic rubbed the horses' noses and nickered to them before going to find her.

"You'd think it was summertime!" she said, still out of sight. "_Roderic!_ Come here!"

"There is no need to shout. I am currently moving in your direction," he replied, rounding the mouth of the cave.

Katharine leaned against the rock face, tapping her foot impatiently and hugging herself to stay warm. The riding suit from the fairies was a dark maroon that accented her olive complexion and fit her perfectly, of course. Underneath it, she wore a cream colored shirt and brown breeches (tucked into her maroon leather boots), cut in a flattering female pattern she had tailored specifically for her. Roderic had the strong notion that her clothing choice would sweep the fashion communities of both nations when the tailor began to talk.

"You'd think it was summer, the way this moss is growing," she said, rubbing the fuzzy green carpet on the cold stone.

"That is Winter Moss," Roderic said, pulling his jacket tighter around him. "It grows only in the winter and insulates the trees from the cold."

"I'm impressed," she said, eyebrows shooting up. "Since when are you interested in botany?"

"Winter Moss is something all Rijhaddites learn about in school. It is fairly common here in the south-eastern part of the country. Do you want to go inside?"

"Sure," she replied, and led the way into the dry and dark, interior.

"Where did he leave that lantern," Roderic muttered, his voice echoing in the stillness. "Here it is."

He fumbled for a match in his pocket, then lit the lamp.

"Wow!" Katharine said enthusiastically. "I'll bet this cave goes on for miles!"

"It might," Roderic conceded, wedging the lantern onto the small shelf Johnathon had left it on, "but I think it is a more shallow cave."

She turned around and crossed her arms.

"When did you get to be so smart?"

"Oh, you know how it is," he said airily, "a thing here, a thing there. In very little time, I become a veritable storehouse of information."

"Right, sure," she said, rolling her eyes. "Let's go find the back of the cave and we'll see who's a storehouse of knowledge."

Roderic was right; the cave was relatively shallow compared to Katharine's estimate. It ended only a quarter of a mile back from the mouth of the cave and around a bend. They both soon grew bored exploring the cave and agreed to attempt a fire. They found some dry wood and the remnants of a fire pit, thanks to Johnathon, but couldn't get a fire started.

"Aren't you Mister All-Knowing now?" Katharine taunted, buttoning up her jacket.

"I am no woodland adventurer," he defended, dropping the stub of the flaming match onto the pile of wood.

"Oh well," she said cheerfully, sitting against the wall of the cave, "we'll be warm enough with our jackets on."

Roderic sat next to her, watching the small flame in the lantern dance.

It had no rhythm in its complicated sashaying movement, yet it could still be called a dance. The fiery passion behind every flicker almost made it human. A small flame that could burn down a dry forest. A small flame that could light a dry cavern. A small flame that could warm a whole room. A revered tool, flame. Yet the beauty was so often lost in its practicality.

"Why do you think we're here?" Katharine asked without looking at him.

Roderic looked at her, but she stared at the lantern. He was surprised by the deep points of that question, but didn't question his good fortune to be able to talk about something important.

"I have been thinking about that a lot lately," he said slowly, waiting for any opposition from her. "We could have just as easily been born of a farmer, a noble, a beggar, or a baker. Why are we where we are? We are like pieces in a puzzle, threads in a tapestry, lines in a drawing. We are each a color and shape that fits perfectly with the others to make a masterpiece.

"But why us, to be royal? What made us worthy of this post? I am beginning to wonder, after all these dreams, if being royal really is better anyway. All of the country people, they have a different kind of happiness than us, and they have different problems. I do not think that any one station in life is better than any others in the long run. We have money and power they have love and loyalty. Both of us take these things for granted and wish for the other. What would happen if we stopped and were content with what we had?"

Complete silence followed his final question, and Roderic felt himself flush, waiting for the inevitable sniping comment that usually followed a sojourn into retrospective territory. _But she asked this time. Maybe…_

"I actually meant, 'Why do you think we're here, fool enough to come out to a cave in the middle of nowhere in the cold?' But I guess that was nice too."

The obvious sarcasm in her voice seemed to further chill the surrounding air. Roderic squeezed his eyes shut, as if to protect himself from the words he had been dreading, that nevertheless quashed the little flutter of hope in his stomach.

_Stupid,_ he told himself, biting his lip. _You opened yourself up for that one entirely._

Neither of them spoke again, but they did not move either. They sat with their eyes fixed on the lantern in a strangely comfortable silence until, after a long while Roderic realized that Katharine had fallen asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he continued to stare at the lantern until he, also, dozed into slumber.

* * *

After many months of dreaming, Roderic's subconscious was prepared for visions of life happening elsewhere in the two kingdoms. What he did not expect to see was a harmless, uninhabited forest of swaying autumn trees. Leaves swirled down on eddies in the breeze to their final destination on the ground, where they carpeted the earth in a breathtaking blanket of wild color. 

He stood in the middle of the forest with the unmistakable aroma of autumn surrounding him and was relaxed, for the first time in months, while he slept. He wandered among the trees and caught a titian leaf in his hand. The breeze tickled it and whirled around his hand, but he kept a hold on it, laughing.

"No, you do not!" he cried. "This is a beautiful leaf and I am keeping it!"

Then he saw a figure approaching and he squinted to see who it was. Her flaming orange dress billowed in the playful breeze and made her seem like a leaf-fairy. As she approached, he noticed that she was wearing strange gloves of bright green that glinted celadon in the dappled light.

"Katharine!" he said, recognizing her, and ran to meet her.

"Roderic," she said urgently, her face in stark unison with the gentle urging in her voice.

He stopped in front of her, the forest forgotten, and furrowed his brow.

"What is it?" he asked, without any real purpose to the question.

"Something's wrong," she said, disregarding his question. "What's bothering you?"

Her tone and face both insisted that she really wanted to know, but he hesitated. She took his hand in hers, which was surprisingly cool, and began rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. He looked down and was startled to see scales reflecting the sun like tiny mirrors.

"Roderic?" she pressed, regaining his attention.

"I do not know. It is a stupid thought," he muttered. He hadn't even told Johnathon, for fear of hurting his feelings.

She took his other hand.

"I'll bet it's not."

"It is," he said. For some reason, her close proximity and touch were unnerving him, fomenting an odd dysphagia on top of the nervousness that constantly plagued him.

"Tell me. Please," she said, her expressive eyes drawing his against his will.

"I feel lost," he heard himself says, then he braced himself for an acidic remark.

"How so?" she asked, not sounding at all sarcastic or biting.

"I just want—someone to understand me," he continued hesitantly. "But that is stupid. _I_ do not even understand me.

She smiled and her whole aura lightened.

"Don't feel lost, then. I understand you!"

She dropped his hand and started to walk away, now that the matter was apparently settled.

"Wait!" he cried desperately. "I do not understand _you_!"

She turned and fixed him another brilliant smile.

"You will soon," she whispered, but Roderic noticed something curious.

As she said 'soon', her tongue slipped out and flicked – it was thin and forked, like a snake's.

* * *

He woke up suddenly and let out a draught of air he had been subconsciously holding. He recalled the dream with crystal accuracy – even though this dream was not like the others at all. It seemed almost normal, for the first time he could remember since the naiad's gift. 

_Very strange,_ he said, and grinned at the odd (albeit disconcerting) personification of Katharine as a snake. He looked over at her; she was still sleeping. She moved then, and dragged her fingers off of his, where they had rested unbeknownst to both sleepers. She sighed and mumbled something, then stilled.

Only then did Roderic hear the rain outside.

"Oh what luck," he murmured to himself. "Katharine, it is raining. We had better go back to the palace before it gets worse."

He patted her hand firmly and she jerked awake.

"It's raining?" she said distastefully, yawning and standing up.

"Can you not hear it?" he asked, picking up the lantern and leading the way out.

When they reached the mouth, they saw the glittering, cascading scenery for a brief moment of dazzling light. Then, it was dark again and the thunder crashed. Katharine said something as the lightning flashed again, but it was muffled by the sounds of the horses whinnying.

Roderic and Katharine dashed out in the pouring rain without a moment's thought, lantern swinging dangerously from Roderic's hand. The wind was fierce, blowing the rain into them and through them, pushing them so that they almost fell. By the time they reached the horses, they were soaked through with freezing rain.

Roderic tried to calm the horses with Katharine standing a safe distance away. With every flash of lightning, she looked more like a haggard ghost, holding her coat closer to her, even though it did no good.

"Come, hurry!" he called after they had settled.

She needed no second warning, darting over to where they stood. She accepted his help, shivering, onto the soaked horse. He then gave her the lantern and mounted his own with a little difficulty, blinded by the water assaulting him from all directions.

"I will take the lantern now," he said, leaning over and holding out his hand.

Katharine shook her head.

"Katharine," he said sharply, "I need the lantern to lead the way home!"

She shook her head again and pulled the lantern out of his reach. Before he could say anything else to her strange behavior, the wind picked up into a howling gale that made the horses shift nervously. Katharine, who must have thought Roderic lunged for it, thrust the lantern out to the side, where the wind tore it from her hands. It shone in the eerie darkness for only a moment before it crashed onto the ground and was extinguished without even a sound, save for the breaking of glass.

Katharine screamed, almost in tune with the shrieking wind, and her horse bolted. Roderic urged his horse after her, thundering wildly along the path and hoping there were no obstacles he could not see. She screamed again and Roderic's horse skidded to a sudden stop next to Katharine's horse, a foot away from a fallen tree. She was still screaming, and in a flash of lightning, he saw her clinging to the horse's neck as if her life depended on it.

Roderic carefully nudged his horse to move a little closer to her and he put a hand on her leg.

"Katharine, it is alright," he shouted over the thunder. "Are you hurt?"

She stopped screaming but didn't move, her whole body tensed and quivering.

"Katharine?" he repeated anxiously, imagining the damage a branch could inflict at a full gallop.

Without warning, she threw herself at him, hugging tightly to his chest and almost pulling him out of the saddle.

"Whoah, calm down!" he yelped, scrambling to pull her into the saddle before they both fell.

He managed to grab the reigns before they slipped, so he held both both horses and a shaking woman at the same time, barely.

"What's wrong? What's happened? Are you alright?" he asked, trying to pry her off of him so he could check for injuries.

"Stop, stop, please," she whimpered, holding tighter and burying her face in his wet shirt.

He could feel her heartbeat next to his own, ragged and fast. He paused, unsure what to do. She might be hurt, but she was also panicked, and he couldn't see to help her in the dark and rain. The lightning was starting to fade away, and it was pitch black most of the time. The wind still buffeted them, blowing water into all the cracks and crevices of his clothing.

One last flash aided his searching eyes – the tree did not cover the entire path.

"Katharine, I have to get down and lead the horses," he said into her hair, hopefully near her ear.

She clung tighter.

"I will be just in front," he assured her, unsure of her sudden fright and hoping she was not hurt. Greivous images played in his mind.

He managed to disentangle himself from her grip and slide down.

"Come on!" he called to the horses, pulling the harnesses of both horses and feeling the path with his feet to find the way around. They started forward, obediently following him around the tree.

The dark was unnerving, and the continuous wind and rain felt like they were trying to part him from his very soul. Something ice cold latched onto his hand and he jumped, trying to see his attacker. He made out Katharine's hand clutching his own with incredible strength. Worry and fear coursed through him again. Katharine would never admit a weakness, yet she was crumpled against the horse, reaching for his hand like a drowning child.

He squinted into the darkness and tried to walk faster against the wind.

The weather assailed the bedraggled group for what seemed like an eternity and Roderic was, after clearing more brush, doubting not for the first time that they were on the correct path. Then he heard a shout.

"Hello!" Roderic yelled over the wind.

"Roderic!" came the faint reply.

"Here we are!" Roderic shouted as loudly as he could, squeezing Katharine's hand comfortingly. "They're coming, Katharine," he said to her.

She didn't move from the position she had stayed in for the entire time, holding to his hand with all the strength she could muster.

A few moments later, a woman appeared at Roderic's elbow holding a lantern.

"Heavens be thanked!" she cried. "I thought we had lost you!"

He didn't recognize the heavily cloaked woman, but her voice was familiar. _They must have sent all the servants out to search for us. The maids too,_ he thought with a twinge of embarrassment.

"Roderic? Are you alright?" she asked.

"No, yes," he said hurried, recalling their plight, "I'm fine. Katharine might be hurt, however. I can't tell."

"Oh," she said in relief, "come, then. We must get back to the palace. Follow me."

He hurried after her, Katharine's grip a constant reminder not to delay.

"I've found them!" the woman called out as they walked through the downpour, picking their way around fallen branches. "They're safe and found! Back to the palace!"

Her call was answered by muffled shouts of joy, and soon they were joined by a host of palace workers who made their way along the cluttered path with difficulty. Katharine was hurried to the palace as soon as they broke free of the trees, a stablehand cantering smoothly through the flooded field to deliver her to the kitchen.

When the rest of them entered the kitchen, everyone threw off their coats and buzzed to assist the royal couple. Before Roderic let anyone take him out of the kitchen, he rushed to the woman who had first found them; she was wringing out her long black hair and quickly braiding it by the fire.

"Miss!" he called, dodging a pair of helpful hands and kneeling beside her. "I thank you for your service. Your bravery and loyalty cannot go unrewarded. Name your prize and I will grant it to you, to what extent I am able."

She pulled up the hair blocking her face and he looked at her for the first time.

Samantha.

* * *

**Final word count: 4013**

**Wow, this was apparently Billi's attempt at an action flick. So yes, I like this chapter a lot. It is so much fun to write Katharine sometimes. Opinions! Description good? Want more? Less? Howabout the cliffie? --wicked laugh--**

FaylinnNorse**: Ah yes, school does have a habit of getting in the way of just about everything. Necessary evil, though. The royals wouldn't remember it was Christmas, because the ball basically WAS christmas for them. I mean, they don't really have fmaily there, and they're royal, so the 'family' thing isn't a big deal. They're in the middle of a war, and Christmas just doesn't mean that much to them. How terrible. --frown-- IT wouldn't be KATHARINE if she stopped confusing him. --laugh-- Good reasoning on the ages, thank you for voting!**

Celestial Seraphim**: 17: --begrudgingly-- Yes, research is good. I also didn't really mind that much; Wikipedia is helpful. Good eye! Yes, they're not romantic, and the point **_**was**_** that they're not supposed to be. Here, you can have some extra hot chocolate. Oh, mind boggling is good. Don't worry, everything will be clear at the end.**

SIMBA**: Thanks about Katharine. And yes, boring is bad. Of course, they're both stubborn; they argue a lot.**

ElvishKiwi**: Whoops, I think you might have missed something. In chapter 17, they really start getting along. Eighteen was a follow up, showing them in a better light. Make more sense now? Yes, Katharine is rather full-stoppish when she's hopping mad. It's endearing, really. --smile-- She's finally growing on me, now that she doesn't act like a complete brat all the time. Roderic meant figuratively, of course. Actually coming to blows? That _would_ be interesting, but I don't think Katharine would go with it. Pity. And Roderic would have a mental breakdown for hitting a girl. Oh, I'm glad you love them more (you're supposed to --smile--) **

Mazkeraide**: Katharine did act weird in that chapter, but that's just a little quirk of her character. Now that we're seeing them more together, they're coming out. Isn't this fun? Look, she's human! --laugh--**

daring2dream**: 17: Haha, too much eggnogg. Sadly, I could see her doing that. It would scare the bejeebies out of Roderic, though. And I would also declare Katharine the winner of that fight, because she left him a blinking confused mess. She's so terrible. --wicked smile-- 18: If she didn't believe Rod, there would have been a lot of issues. Thankfully, being honest has its definite good points. Jody and Celeste were in a tricky situation, which is why they were arguing all the time. Celeste is due in April. To give a bit of perspective, chapter 18 fell about the beginning of January. New Year's isn't a big thing in that area of the world, which is why it's not mentioned.**

Bingo7**: 17: Too bad we had to go straight from lightening up to dismal again, at least on the Jody/Celeste front. Hope you had a wonderful Christmas, glad I got to give you the first present –smile-- 18: Eh, I was going for a loose parody of "The straw that broke the camel's back." Apply that as you see best to the contents of chapter 18. I like the sound of free picking. Yum. --chuckle-- I think most of us feel that way at some point, and Celeste is all moody and weird from being pregnant anyway. That just makes her even worse.**

Tall One**: Welcome! Thanks for the concrit. The battle scene was really hard for me... I'll try a re-write soon and get more description in there. And as for the tux; I think they would. It's fairy-tale land, right? --laugh-- I'm not sure what else he would wear. A tux seems the sharpest. Imagining Roddy in a robe makes me cringe. Gel is a great word. Too bad I can't use it very often with their speaking types. Oh well. The preacher is good enough. --smile--**

Emma A. Piper**: 17: Thanks. I like cute! 18: Nope, not so great, yeah...**

**ATTENTION: I am still waiting for more votes on the poll, please. In a few chapters, (a few weeks) I'll be closing it. If you haven't voted, please do. I'd really like my readers' opinions on how old they think the characters are in the story. THANK YOU!**

**Reviewers will get homemade brownies with white chocolate frosting! Happy New Year!**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Ellsbeta**, for pointing out my typo!  
**


	20. Violently Ill

**1 . 1 . 08**

**So we left with a wonderful cliffie. Samantha is back, and what's going to happen with it?**

* * *

Roderic opened his eyes from another dreamless night and felt more exhausted than he had been before sleep. 

"How do you feel?" a soft voice asked, and a round, drawn face swam into view.

"Tired," he mumbled.

The face smiled humorlessly.

"Will you eat some broth?" she asked.

"If you want me to," he groaned.

"I do," the woman said, and helped him to sit up.

She tried unsuccessfully to dislodge Katharine's hand from his arm, where it always gripped while she slept. Then she handed him a small bowl of hot broth. He took a few drinks of the delicious liquid that made him dizzy with hunger, but it burned his raw throat and he soon handed it back to her, wincing. She then forced a glass of cool water upon him that felt like liquid ice: equally uncomfortable.

Then, he leaned back against the headboard and thought about the past miserable week. They had emerged from their scrape with only minor abrasions, much to Roderic's relief. He and Katharine both came down with a terrible cold that left them weak and in pain, though mostly unconscious. When Katharine was awake, she was sniping and witty as usual and made no mention of the night in the woods. But when she slept, she always kept his arm in her grasp. That he could bear, after growing accustomed to the pressure, but something else troubled his thoughts.

Samantha. That night, before she could reply, he was whisked away to dry off and be examined by the physicians. He had not seen her since. The thought of meeting her again made his stomach turn over. Assuming that her feelings had not changed, he was quite sure his own did not match hers in intensity. However, he couldn't bear telling her that and seeing the desperate melancholy.

Thinking of the conundrum for the countless time, he drifted off to sleep, Katharine's gripping fingers a band of dull pain that pulsed in the back of his mind.

* * *

"What happened?" 

Jody jerked out of the doze he had fallen into, sprawled on the bed next to Celeste with one hand on her forehead and the other in the water bucket. His fingers were now quite wrinkled.

"What do you mean?" he stuttered, pulling his hand hastily off her forehead.

"What happened? What has been going on?" she asked weakly, squinting in the dim light. "And why are you on the bed?"

"You've been sick," he explained tiredly, pulling himself off the bed and rubbing his face vigorously with his dripping hand. "For almost two weeks."

"Two weeks?" she echoed faintly, dropping the blankets she had been clutching to her chin.

He nodded and searched her face for the glazed look she had had when she wasn't awake. He had witnessed his fair share of hallucinations, though mostly she was talking to Lee and asking him if something was alright. Her quick eyes followed his movements as he walked around the bed and sat next to her. He pushed the blankets back up around her neck and felt her forehead. She was still hot, though not nearly as warm as she had been. He patted her mounded stomach through the padding.

"Go back to sleep, girl," he said, yawning. "When you wake up, I'll have something for you to eat."

She didn't reply. He glanced at her face and saw it relaxed in sleep.

"Direct obedience," he murmured with a smile. "That'll be the only time that happens."

* * *

"When did you take to the library, Roderic?" 

The sweet voice startled him and he closed the book, looking up into Samantha's sparkling brown eyes.

"No one else comes here," he said in what he hoped was an offhand manner, though he could feel his heart start to race.

"Except me," she pointed out with a nervous laugh.

"And Katharine sometimes," he murmured, fiddling with the pages of the book.

There was an awkward pause. Roderic could hear her quiet breathing in the stillness of the room; it was an irregular pattern, like the waves on a shore. It had a rhythm all its own, waiting to be interpreted and understood.

"How've you – been?" she asked jerkily, but softly: like she was afraid to know the answer.

Her quiet embarrassment made Roderic feel even more ill-at-ease because he knew she never acted this way. The last words she said to him echoed in his mind.

"_You have no heart."_

"Fine," he answered, avoiding her eyes.

"I know what you're thinking about," she said abruptly, "and I'm sorry for ever saying that. I was rash and stupid. You're never rash, but you know me. Not that that is an excuse or anything—I'm botching this up."

She trailed off.

"I forgive you," Roderic said, stumbling over his words. "Do not give it a second's thought."

She laughed a little before speaking.

"I'm sure you've thought about it enough for the both of us, and for that I apologize again."

It was his turn to smile, and even look into her eyes.

"You know I hate being apologized to."

She grinned impishly.

"That's why I did it."

They both laughed, and it felt like they had never been apart. She was the same loud, funny, and surprisingly insightful friend, and he was the same awkward, quiet prince. _This time, though,_ he realized, _I_know_ who I am._

"I've been thinking about your offer," she said, extracting him from his thoughts.

"My offer?" he said in confusion.

"After I found you in the woods?"

"Oh, right," he said, instantly recalling that blurry evening.

He hesitated before continuing.

"And what have you chosen?"

They had done well so far about not mentioning her… regard, but he wouldn't put it past her to ask for something brazen. She was not a wishy-washy character, and always got what she wanted if it was at all attainable.

"Stop looking like I'm going to ask for your head on a platter," she said, laughing brightly. "I'm not sure yet. That was a pretty wide option you gave me."

"You saved the life of the future king and his wife," Roderic said nervously. "I think that deserves a wide option. How is your family? Do they need gold? A place for them in the palace?"

She shook her head slowly.

"No, they like the country. Now that my little niece is born, they are doing great. Too much money and they'd not know what to do with it, you know? And with my transfer here, my pay got raised. I'm quite comfortable."

"Do you want to be nobility?" he teased.

She made a repulsive face.

"And fall to your fate? I don't think so! I don't want to marry a rich fool and have an affair going on with the man I really love. What a mess. How many young ladies are trying to steal your heart, Roderic?"

He sensed an affected nonchalance that signaled her true curiosity.

"None," he said shortly.

He wasn't sure what expression crossed her face at that.

"Oh yes, silly me. I forgot how in love everyone thinks you are. You two are the talk of the country, and not just because you saved our lives, either. They're all twittering about what a perfect match you are."

The look on her face was still unintelligible.

"We are not in love," Roderic said firmly, though he wondered for a moment why he was defending his non-love life to her. "We get along now, though."

"I'm glad to hear that," she said, the foreign expression flitting away. "See? All that worrying you did was for nothing."

"I guess so," he agreed, shrugging.

"Well, I'd better go," she said, standing up. "I'm due to start cleaning the East Wing."

"It was nice to see you again, under less stressful circumstances."

She smiled and squeezed his hand.

"I'll find you some other time."

It was only three chapters later that he realized she hadn't named her reward.

* * *

**Final word count: 1336**

**It's short. But yesterday's was long enough I thought I might be able to get away with it. What do you think of everything? Were they acting normal? Anything strike you as odd?**

daring2dream**: Don't you get sick too! --chuckle-- Hum, cliffhangers keep people reading, don't they? Although, in my defense, I don't implement them very often. The dream was a bit confusing, wasn't it? It will all explain itself in time. Nice idea, about her fright originating in childhood. Samantha is stirring things up, isn't she? She can't help it – she's too spunky to be calm.**

Celestial Seraphim**: It was cool? Fantastic! Which part was cool? The storm? The dream? Samantha? Do tell. I'm curious to know what was so good that it got you to put this on your favorites. There, Katharine is growing on you. Good. She was always a mystery, you were just stereotyping her. Apologize! --laugh-- Not that she would care. I'll expect my ten dollars in the mail. --grin--**

Queen Tabitha Tall**: Welcome to this new crazy world! I always appreciate a welcome, even if it is belated. Thank you. I hope the cliffhanger was alleviated well enough?  
**

Mazkeraide**: Are they falling in love? Hum. You'll have to decide that as you read. Sparkling grape juice does have a way of getting to your head. Be careful. --wink--**

**Happy New Year! Review and you'll get a big bottle of Fanta! **

**REMINDER: Please vote in my poll if you haven't already. I'll need to close it soon! I really want to know how old you think the characters are. It's not a trick question. **


	21. The Heat of the Moment

**8 . 1 . 08**

**Okay, in this chapter you are going to find out how old one of the characters is. This is your last chance to vote in the poll!**

**I am not an expert at childbirth. Forgive me any misreprentations, and, as always, feel free to correct me. Especially your mum, ElvishKiwi. If she has anything to say, please let me know. A healthy dose of humility keeps me sane. **

_**I'm going to give out a special prize**_** to anyone who can tell me a very prominent characteristic of Roderic that (surprisingly) hasn't been mentioned yet. **

_I'll write you a one-shot about anything you wish, as long as I know the subject matter._

**CLUES:**

**He only deviates from this habit **_**once**_** in the whole story.**

**No one else in the story shares this habit with him.**

**A reader mentioned this characteristic in reference to another character (one who was only in two chapters) but it was applied falsely. **

**MAY THE MOST OBSERVANT READER WIN!**

* * *

_He seemed to stand straighter and said firmly, "Because," and kissed me deeply on the lips. _

_I was surprised, but didn't push him away like the other man. I let him kiss me and he stepped away, and whispered, "Oh Lord, I shouldn't have done that. You must be so angry." _

_I shook my head. _

_He said, "You had to have been a little offended then." _

_Again my head shook back and forth. _

"_Then… you must be…" _

_He struggled to find the right words to describe my awkwardness he was sure I had experienced, but I finished,_

"_Extremely happy."_

The Days to Fly --Crayola Color Sky

* * *

"Here you go," Jody said anxiously, "hot water." 

"Thank you," Kayla said quickly, taking the kettle from him in the doorway to the bedroom.

"Rags, Jody!" Hallie called from inside the room.

Jody dove for the shelf on the kitchen wall, grabbing a pile of rags and rushing back to meet Hallie in the doorway. He barely missed running into Kayla; she pressed herself against the wall in the nick of time. Hallie took the rags and shoved him out of the room, so quickly that he actually did run into Kayla, and only saved her from a scalding fall by a lucky catch. He caught her about the waist and steadied her, muttering a quick, "Sorry, sorry!" and collapsing onto the nearest chair.

The screams coming from the bedroom did nothing to calm his anxiety, and he was quickly on his feet again, pacing. His nerves were raw. After being ill for two weeks, and bedridden for another five days recovering, she had gone into labor. Thankfully, she had some warning, and Jody had ridden toward town at a frantic pace to gather some women. Kayla and Hallie had been ready first, so they were the two that accompanied him back to aid Celeste.

She had been in labor for four hours now, and still no baby. The women explained to him hurriedly that she was just weak from the sickness, that nothing was wrong, but her cries of pain sounded anything but weak.

_Why is childbirth this horrible?_ he thought, pacing in a more irritated pattern. _What did she do to deserve this much pain?_ He continued to obstinately push away any thoughts that the baby might be sick or d—worse.

_It's fine. He's fine. She's fine. The baby is fine. Celeste is fine._

Kayla appeared at the doorway, her apron flecked with blood.

"Jody, you need to calm her down," she said rapidly.

He froze.

"I'm not going in there."

"Jody," she said sharply, "the baby is twisted around. Hallie and I need to concentrate on getting it turned around, but Celeste is panicking. Hurry!"

She vanished. Jody followed her in, bracing himself. He jogged into the bedroom and artfully ignored everything except Celeste's pained and scared face. It was more gaunt and pale than it had been while she was ill, which made him swallow a few times nervously.

Hallie wrung her hand out of Celeste's grip and joined Kayla at the foot of the bed. Neither of them so much as glanced his direction as he knelt by Celeste's head. Her chest was heaving, and her breaths were shaky.

"Calm down, girl," he said, taking her hand.

She squeezed his hand tightly and forced her rolling eyes to stare at him.

"Jody," she gasped, "I'm going to die."

The statement, spoken in a serious tone, took him off guard.

"No you're not," he refuted immediately. "Don't ever say that. You're going to be fine. Kayla and Hallie know what they're doing."

"Take care of the baby, promise me."

"Stop it. Breathe, Celeste. You're not breathing."

She sucked in a breath and heaved it out, then her face contorted. She clung to Jody's hand.

"Ready – push," Hallie intoned, her hand against the top of Celeste's bare stomach.

Celeste screamed, making Jody wince, and pushed, fully cutting off the circulation in Jody's hand. She started to hyperventilate and her eyes started rolling.

"Celeste, girl, calm down," Jody said in panic. "Breathe slowly, come on."

She stared right at him with her huge, terrified eyes, shining a brilliant green.

"Celeste, breathe slowly," he repeated.

"Jody!" Kayla snapped. "Calm her down!"

"I'm trying!" he snapped back.

He clasped her white hand in his other hand, completely engulfing it.

"Listen to me. You need to calm down and breathe slowly. You're going to be just fine."

She kept staring at his face, and her breathing slowed.

"Keep it up!" Hallie said encouragingly. "A few more minutes and we'll have a new baby!"

A few minutes stretched into a few hours before a wailing child was held up triumphantly.

"It's a girl!" Kayla squealed, rubbing the blood and slime off the newborn with a damp rag.

"And she's got a fine pair of lungs," Hallie added, also cleaning her off with a wide smile.

"Ten gold she's as pretty as you," Jody whispered to Celeste, mopping her sweaty face with a wet cloth.

Celeste's head was drooping like she was about to fall asleep, though she was making a valiant effort to remain conscious. Kayla wrapped the baby in a clean rag while Hallie remained at the foot of the bed, saying something about "stitching her up." Jody did not want to know.

Kayla handed the baby to Jody.

"Congratulations, Pops," she said with a hug that meant more than the light words.

He looked down at the squirming, screaming creature in his arms and barely kept from making a face. He was sure that the women would sentimentally assert that the tiny female had Lee's nose, or cheeks, or chin, but Jody couldn't see any resemblance to his best friend. She looked like a shriveled little alien.

"Isn't she cute?" Kayla cooed.

"Yeah," he said quickly, handing the baby to Celeste. "Adorable."

Kayla helped her sit up and accept the bundle, her exhausted eyes bright with anticipation. Jody took one last look at the wriggling girl and smiled. _For an alien, she isn't too bad,_ he admitted.

"Oh, oh," was all Celeste could manage, in a quiet voice covered by the baby's wails.

As if sensing that her mother was holding her at last, the girl quieted some. Celeste beamed, rocking her jerkily. Two tears dripped onto the rag.

"What's her name?" Hallie asked, appearing at her side and washing her hands in a bucket of warm water.

Celeste looked up at Jody.

"I was thinking, Jody – how do you like Mara Leigh?"

"Whatever you want," Jody said, taken aback that his opinion would be asked. It wasn't his child. "I think it's a beautiful name."

"Mara Leigh Jeanette Flannlin," she said, touching the girl's red nose. "The name's bigger than you are."

She yawned.

"You'd better get some sleep…" Kayla said, and that's the last thing Jody heard before he passed out of sheer exhaustion with his head next to Celeste's.

* * *

Samantha found Roderic in the library every day after their first conversation, for the last hour of his allotted two in the evenings. She would clean the room, dusting shelves and oiling them until they sparkled like new, and once again added a different perspective to his ideas. 

This time, however, he found her ideas less strange and surprising. Seeing how the country people actually lived gave him a new foundation to ground her beliefs into. She found his new acceptance strange.

"What have you been doing?" she asked, corking a bottle of polish. "You sound like you've been touring the country in disguise."

"It is those dreams I told you about," he said, chuckling at the thought of traversing the countryside in a guise. "I am not stupid. I can put two and two together."

"You're very smart, forget stupid," she said with a smile, "but sometimes you amaze me, that's all."

"I highly doubt my capability of amazing people, but I thank you all the same," Roderic said with a grin.

"Don't sell yourself short," she scolded, pocketing the bottle and winking. "You're the most amazing person I know."

"I pity your choice in friends," he quipped.

"And you got feisty too!" she exclaimed. "I swear, you're like a whole new person."

She sat down beside him.

"And I like the new Roderic."

"That is wonderful," he replied with only a little nervousness, "because I am _not_ going to change back."

"Was that some obstinacy I detected?" she asked with mock surprise.

"Perhaps it was," Roderic said contemplatively. "Anyway, you had better leave, yes?"

"Not particularly," she said evasively. "Why do you always try to shove me away when we talk about you? You seem just as bad as Katharine."

"I apologize," he said, furrowing his brow. "I did not realize I had been doing that."

She put a hand on his arm, her skin pale against his own.

"You can pick up faults from anyone. I don't blame you," she said seriously.

"I am glad you do not hate me because of one unsavory character trait," he said, trying to lighten her unusually solemn persona.

"I could never hate you," she said softly.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I must go; it was lovely to talk to you, as usual," he said, faint warning bells starting to sound in his head, though he wasn't quite sure why.

"You're doing it again," she said, taking his hands and smiling ingratiatingly.

"I apologize, I really must go. I have an appointment," he said, the alarms ringing louder in his ears.

He had never been more grateful for Johnathon's nightly meetings than at that moment.

"I've decided on my reward," she said, wrapping her calloused fingers around his hands and drumming them on the inside of his wrists.

The sensation sent chills up his spine and forced him to look at her eyes. She was very close to him, and he could smell the scent she wore. A sweet, fruity smell of some variety pervaded his senses.

"What did you decide?" he asked faintly, struggling to clear his head.

She smiled, pink mouth sliding into an honest expression of amusement, and shook her head a little, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Samantha," he said, trying to move back, but her hands kept him in front of her, still staring into her liquid brown eyes.

She stared back, then, very slowly, released his hands. He tried to step away then, but he stayed still, transfixed by the curve of her jaw and the gleam in her eyes. She took a step forward and put her arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest.

"Samantha," he said weakly, "stop. You cannot ask for anything like that. I am_married._"

She turned her head slightly and kissed his chest though the layers of fabric. He felt his breath hitch and his heart race at the action, and there was suddenly an internal battle raging. On the one hand, his marriage was only for legal reasons, and Katharine would probably be thrilled to have proof that he wasn't interested in her. Samantha was all for making her dream a reality.

On the other hand, ever since his argument with Katharine, he'd decided that the morals he learned weren't negotiable, even when it made someone else happy. He was married. Marriage was something to be taken seriously, and something to be honored. Obviously, a part of honoring the marriage is remaining faithful to your spouse.

_But does the rule still apply when your partner does not care?_

_A rule is a rule._

_It is not a rule, it is a promise you made to your spouse. If they release you, you are free._

_It does not work like that._

"We cannot do this, Samantha," he managed to choke out.

"No one would care," she whispered, tilting her chin up to catch his eyes again.

Her mouth was parted slightly in a way that drove his unsteady thoughts mad. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

_Just once..._

He pressed his mouth against hers hungrily, burying his hands in her hair. She responded immediately, hooking one hand on his shoulder and running the other through his curls tantalizingly. They broke apart, panting for breath. Her eyes were lit up and she licked her lips.

"You taste as sweet as you act," she said under her breath, and pulled him into another kiss, twisting her fingers into his hair.

All thought abandoned him and he floated in the heat of the moment, overwhelmed. They broke apart again a few moments later.

"No, no, oh no," Roderic said, realizing what he had just done and scrambling backwards in a panic. "No. That did not happen. Nothing. By the – I am late. Samantha – no. What can I say? I am sorry."

He fled the room, leaving Samantha standing with a ghostly smile on her flushed face. He ran, feet pounding the marble and breath coming in sporadic gasps, with no intention of meeting Johnathon directly.

_I have to pull myself together. Oh in the name of peace –_

He interrupted himself, focusing on running off the thrill of emotions still coursing through him. He flew past maids and butlers, ignoring their polite greetings, finally finding himself in a deserted corridor, where he collapsed against the wall, chest heaving, but still standing. He shook his head violently, almost knocking himself over and further disturbing the order Philip had established in his hair that morning.

He ran his hands through the mass spastically, then clenched his fists at his sides and gritted his teeth. He could no longer keep the thoughts at bay.

"What were you _thinking?!_" he shouted, voice echoing down the hallway.

He slammed his head against the wall until he saw stars and momentarily forgot what he was angry about.

Ah, the momentary respite.

"Are you _stupid?!_" he yelled hoarsely. "Are you _daft?_"

His shaking legs gave out and he slid down the wall until he was hugging his quivering knees.

"Whatever happened to morals? You're acting like you're sixteen again! You're twenty-nine! She's nineteen! Do you have any self control?"

Unbidden, a vivid memory of what had just taken place overcame his mind and he was left limp in a crux of confusion.

_That was wrong. I know that was wrong. By the blood, it felt good though. Why do I feel like I finally did the one thing I've been waiting for? What is wrong with me?_

He wrapped his arms around his legs and buried his head in his knees, succumbing to the wave of guilt he knew was coming.

_I knew what was right and what was wrong. Why did I screw this up? Why am I so idiotic?_

He felt a hot tear slide down his nose. His heart clenched painfully.

"Roderic? Are you alright? I heard some yelling… I know you're a big boy now, but checking up is good occasionally."

The droning voice grew closer, but Roderic didn't really hear it.

"Roderic?"

His head snapped up wildly, and his eyes traveled from the hem of a navy blue dress, up to the forest green bodice, then onto the stricken face of Katharine. He felt another tear trickling down his cheek and quickly wiped it away, stumbling to his feet.

"Yes, yes, I am fine," he said, running another hand through his hair.

She blinked.

"Um, good," she said slowly, then seemed to regain her footing as they started walking. "I don't imagine you as a 'moping in an abandoned hallway' kind of person. I'm never wrong, so don't make it a hobby, hm?"

"It did not give me the fulfillment I hoped it would," he said, recovering himself adequately enough to flash a quick smile. "Do not expect to see that again."

"I'll take that as a promise," she said with a laugh, turning left once they reached the main corridor. "Where are you off to?"

"Johnathon," Roderic explained, turning right.

He turned right again at the next junction, and Katharine's words hit him.

_I'll take that as a promise._

Another wave of guilt swept over him and he shook his head again, gritting his teeth.

_Stupid._

* * *

**Final word count: 2597**

**Did his age surprise you? He is the oldest of the lot. Jody and Celeste's ages will be coming in soon, but we never really find out how old Katharine is. I suppose you'll just have to imagine it.--smile-- So how was the chapter? Jody? Roderic?**

FaylinnNorse**: Yes! If I guilted you into posting a new chapter of Golden Sands... I'm only a little bit sorry. --angelic smile--**** Chapter 19 was one of my favorite chapters to write, too, so I'm glad it's one of the best. His dream mildly disturbed **_**me,**_**and**_**I**_** wrote it! ****Go ahead and ship them if you like. It's a dangerous ship.**

ElvishKiwi**: There you are! I was beginning to wonder where you had gone! Although, I am updating rather quicker than I was before, aren't I? Conveniently, I had two pairs of long/short chapters right around the holidays. I couldn't resist some quick ones. Oh, there will be another cliffie. Fear not. --wicked grin to match-- Samantha is really a lot of fun isn't she? Especially after reading this chapter? They sleep in the same bedroom basically because the fate of two countries depends on their relationship. They have to make people think they are in love, and if word gets out that they're not sleeping together, well, bad things happen. The countries break off the deal, Rijhad is overwhelmed by Philettin, Terriot starves, and everyone dies. Gloomy prospect, eh? I've given them the convenience of not-too-terrible clothes though, and a bathroom. --smile-- I love being slightly unrealistic. Katharine being freaked out was extremely fun to write, and yes the dream is strange. Very very strange. (probably more strange than you readers realize). Good eye – you're right, all his other dreams have been actual events that are happening. --hands you an extra bottle of Fanta--**

Celestial Seraphim**: Oh good, the dream was incredibly interesting for me to write. I mean, everyone uses weird dreams to convey deep points, right? But this dream, well, it MIGHT have conveyed a point, but we're not exactly sure what point it was trying to make. And he always has weird dreams, so he didn't take it seriously. --devious smile-- Sorry, I couldn't bring myself to post five chapters in two weeks. Glass Rose hasn't been updated in forever though... --nudge--**

Bingo7**: Hum, good description of Katharine. Never thought of her like that before, but you are right. Drat, that makes her sound like a stereotypical person. How irritating. --glares at Katty-- Yes, the snake tongue is odd, isn't it? Come now, you think of Samantha as a glitch? She's her own person, you know. --laugh-- That's true, what you said about men. He never really had a chance to prove to people he was a man, unless it was in the council room. And there aren't girls in there. He's a little more sure of himself now, you'll notice, even if it's not necessarily in the right direction. Jody makes me smile too. --smile-- Thank you, I'm glad you think my style is lovely. That gave me a little warm fuzzy inside.**

daring2dream**: You can't blame Samantha – women tend to get jealous even when nothing is happening. Does it seem as if Rod is falling for Katty? Hm... And she is weird-interesting, isn't she? Just in general. And there you go – you just found out how old I see Roddy as. --smile--**

Queen Tabitha Tall**: Samantha really isn't confusing at all. Perhaps she only appears so because she is different than you thought she would be? I'm not sure. Or perhaps, knowing the whole storyline helps me understand her better? I couldn't say. Hm indeed about Roddy's decision. Ah, your last comment earned me a loud shout in the ear. One of my friends asked the same thing earlier this week, and I gave her a strange look. I hadn't thought of that before – even though you are right; they are very similar. Strange how God works sometimes, isn't it? But, my friend (who happened to be reading over my shoulder) yelled in triumph. Ouch.**

Mazkeraide**: You'd dislike his cheating on Katty more than his falling in love with her? Well then. I wonder how many other readers feel the same way...**

Clar the Pirate**: You have returned! --uproarious cheering from assortment of passers-by-- Thank you for catching up and reviewing; I appreciate it. I'm glad you liked 18's title. And, of course, what would a nice peasant's winter be without risk of starvation? Especially when they live so far from everyone. --chuckle-- Try not to worry too much though.**

flammingirl**: Welcome to this crazy world! I hope you keep enjoying the story. You like Katty/Rod better? Why's that? (purely curiosity; I don't mean anything else by it)**

Ellsbeta**: 20: I think Rod and Katty are meant to sort out their differences too. We'll see how it works out... --laugh-- I hope this update was soon enough for you? --smile--**

Ilovecookies15**: Welcome! (Wow, that's three new readers over the Christmas holidays!) Interesting idea; I appreciate your speculation! **

**I hope you all are enjoying your New Year! I'm handing out freshly baked croissants this chapter, with whatever you like on them. So, REVIEW! **


	22. Better With Age

**14 . 1 . 08**

**This one was fun to write. With Jody and Celeste being so busy, it's hard to find something to write about. I finally found one time where they could sit down and interact – dinner.**

**Also, the times are shaky in the next few chapters. Things at the Flannlin's and things at the Palace Allearsi aren't necessarily happening at the same time until I give you the heads-up. I've agonized, but I can't really find another way for this to work. Sorry for the confusion. Feel free to ask any questions that niggle at you.**

* * *

_"It was then I realized Ky had the same look in his eyes as Charlie had had in his when Ky had ridden up. This was so strange. And now I recognized it._

_It was jealously pure and simple._

_Now I was really flattered."_

It's not that easy –Bingo5

* * *

Life at the Flannlin's passed in a whirlwind of baby gifts, midnight screaming, and dirty diapers. Jody avoided holding Mara Leigh, but took to the job of Diaper Warrior like a true soldier. With the added stress and confusion of a baby (and constant advice from all the women from both towns) most visitors expected for the tensions to be running high between them. However, the two took a united front against life, dividing chores and baby duty evenly and consoling each other on bad days. Laughter was often heard to accompany the delighted burble of Mara Leigh. 

Just when they were getting used to life with the baby, spring sprung with a vengeance and Jody added supervising the crops to his long list of duties. Even with the added tasks, and the last-minute spring tools being ordered from the blacksmith, tempers were kept in check. Celeste didn't complain when he was gone all day and came home exhausted, she just served him the food she'd kept warm and offered him a cup of tea.

Mara Leigh loved to snuggle with Jody late in the evenings in the new cushioned chair they had received as a gift. She fit perfectly in the indentation next to his lap, and as if sensing his aversion, remained still. As he drank his tea, she would just look at him, and occasionally smile at her own personal joke. As much as he denied it, Jody did see a slight resemblance between her and Lee, though she mostly took after her mother. Her wispy hair was a golden blonde, and her eyes were bright, snapping green. When she smiled, though, Jody could see the little dimple Lee had sported, and the shape of her delicate mouth was different than Celeste's.

He appreciated her understanding, and they coexisted peacefully.

Celeste never questioned why he didn't hold her, though she did continue to offer and he continued to politely refuse, claiming business with something else. Mara Leigh didn't let that deter her, and giggled in delight whenever he entered the room. He pretended not to notice.

When the planting was over, Jody finally had a chance to breathe and he realized just how fast time had passed.

"Is she really two months old?" he asked, closing his eyes and rubbing his face tiredly.

Mara Leigh gurgled in her reclined high seat (a gift from Albertte's carpenter) next to Celeste and thumped the tray with her pudgy fist. Celeste winked at Jody conspiratorially and thunked his plate down in front of him.

"That means, 'Yes, of course.' She's still working out the fine tuning of the phrase."

"Oh golly," he sighed, picking at his potato.

"What's wrong, strong man?" she asked, nudging his fork with hers. "Feeling old?"

"How'd you know?" he asked glumly, batting her fork away and stabbing the potato.

"Because you look like you feel old," she said, popping a carrot in her mouth.

Mara Leigh squealed and tossed her wooden dog onto the floor. Jody reached under the table and put it back on her tray, not even cringing at the drool.

"Golly, thanks," he muttered, taking one of her green beans and slurping it.

"I didn't say you looked old," she defended, taking a wedge of his cheese. "I said you looked like you felt old. I'm older than you anyway, and it's a commonly known fact that men age better than women. I'll look old way before you do."

"You're only a year older," he said with a chuckle. Mara Leigh screamed in laughter. "So what's the difference?"

"Between looking old and looking like you feel old? Simple. You have this tired, world weary look on your face, and you look like you have lots of wrinkles."

She stopped and pointed her fork, with an onion from his plate speared on the end, at him triumphantly.

"The way to tell is to get them to laugh. Voila! Like magic, they're young again. You only chuckled and you looked younger, so you can't be feeling that old. Forty, maybe? That's only a few years away…"

"Twelve," he said with a glare.

"Twelve then," she said gleefully. "Eleven for me. Then we'll be first rate old, won't we?"

"Practically decrepit," he agreed, yanking the onion off her fork with his teeth like a dog.

Mara Leigh threw her dog again and laughed uncontrollably, her small body shaking, and Jody swallowed before joining in. Celeste just took another onion and ate it, chuckling. Mara Leigh's laughter turned to whimpering soon and Celeste sighed.

"Just one moment, would you please? Some people don't have eating as easy as you."

Mara Leigh whined and Jody smiled a little in her direction.

"She knows what she wants."

"Gets it from you," Celeste grumbled, taking a last bite and swooping Mara Leigh out of her seat.

A chill of remembrance swept through him at her words, and he instantly pictured Lee there with them, tickling Mara Leigh and distracting her for a few minutes.

"I'll wash up," he volunteered, picking up the plates and scraping the remnants into the pot for a soup tomorrow.

He then headed outside to scrub the plates, leaving Celeste and Mara Leigh to do their business. He dipped the plates and silverware in the tub outside the door and rubbed at them with the cloth, trying to distract himself from the issue at hand.

He had lost his balance. It would take him several more months to find it again.

He had found equilibrium with Celeste, but having Lee's child too had changed the mixture. She was a constant reminder of what they had lost, and a constant reminder of what a poor substitute he was for the great man. Her appearance bound her to Celeste, but even at the young age, some of her mannerisms that she was growing into were so much like Lee it scared him.

As her hair grew longer, she was always pulling it over her eyes when she thought, just like Lee. Her appetite almost rivaled his own, once she learned the glories of solid foods. She was stubborn like Celeste, but even tempered like Lee. She was determined to be mobile as soon as possible, and started walking when she was only five months old, grabbing onto furniture to steady her. Like Lee, she did not stop moving until she had memorized the entire house and could maneuver her way through it with ease. Then, she was content to sit and play with her blocks and keep an eye on whomever was in the house.

When Jody came back from the forge or the fields, she would drop whatever she was doing and scamper to the door to hug his boot, burbling wordlessly about her day. Jody would smile in spite of himself and pat her blonde head, before taking off his jacket and boots, but he never said a word to her. Mara Leigh was not easily deterred, and would follow him at a safe distance, like a wary shadow, until he left the house again. She was enamored with the big silent man, no matter how much he ignored her.

Her first word was Daddy.

* * *

Roderic didn't tell Johnathon about Samantha, although the other man knew something was wrong. 

"Not now, Johnathon, please," Roderic had said tiredly. "I need some time to think."

So Johnathon had dropped the subject and finished the letters. They continued the rest of the week in this detached manner, and Roderic was so overwhelmed with his own thoughts he didn't notice the stiffness and coldness of Johnathon's actions.

Meanwhile, he avoided the library, spending his alone time in a different location every night. He finished _A Servant's Tale,_ and remembered why he liked the book. The man ended up with the woman who had been there for him all along.

Katharine made no mention of his subdued spirit, acting the same as always. He was abnormally grateful for an escape from reality, and began spending more time with her to keep his mind off Samantha, even if just to listen to her ramble about one thing or another.

Meanwhile, the dreams kept coming, and as if sensing his preoccupation with Samantha, began showing many romantic scenes. He was witness to every sort, from small children holding hands and smiling shyly, to grandmothers and grandfather's sharing a sweet kiss. They only succeeded in confusing him further.

Who was there to talk to, to ask what love felt like? He had never been in love, and he wasn't sure he was in love now, but he wanted to know. The more classic symptoms were there; he could hardly stop thinking of her, and was nervous around her and made escape quickly, even though he had been thrilled at the prospect of seeing her.

_Is that all there is to it?_ he wondered on more than one occasion. Most of the time, his mind conjured wild fantasies of being with Samantha forever, but when he forced himself to think straight, he was prodded with that guilty confused feeling again.

_Love conquers all... even morals?_

Somehow, he didn't think that sounded quite right.

Not to mention he still didn't know if he was in love.

"Roderic? Hello?"

A hand swiped in front of his face and he almost yelped, jumping back into a sitting position. Katharine regarded him with amusement.

"Did you fall asleep?"

"No, I was thinking," Roderic said vaguely.

"You've had a long day. Maybe you'd better go to bed," she advised, narrowing her eyes at the needlepoint she had recently taken up. "How did that meeting go today?"

"Well enough," he answered. "Nothing unusual happened. You are right, though. I am tired. Perhaps I had better retire."

He thought he saw a glimmer of concern in her eyes before she looked back to her thread.

"Sleep well," she said as he stood.

"I doubt it," he sighed, leaving the small parlor and walking back to their bedroom.

Maids were bustling through the hallways in the after-dinner rush, murmuring their regard to him as they passed with armloads of cloth, dishes, and waste. He nodded tiredly to them, and his mind wandered to Samantha again. He had seen her today passing in the hall, but was sure she had not seen him. Her hair had been pulled up into a braid, which he didn't like. _Loose is better._

He shook his head in annoyance and opened the door to their bedroom, surprised to see a light already lit. Samantha was wiping the desk clean, carefully balancing a stack of his papers in one hand. Her head turned when the door opened and she smiled brilliantly at him. A paper fell to the floor.

"Fancy meeting you here," she said, replacing the stack of papers and lifting the one off the floor.

He didn't reply except to smile weakly and lift his neatly folded pajamas from the bedside. His heart was racing and his briefly lingering eyes took in every particle of her. Her jet hair was down this time, in a glossy sheet over her back, and her long-sleeved dress modestly reached to her ankles. She had pushed the sleeves back to her elbows, to ease her working, revealing toned forearms.

He let himself into the bathroom and shut the door, quickly changing into his pajamas automatically. Only when he reached for the knob again did he realize that it was not at all proper. With an inward groan – he really was tired, after Katharine mentioned it, and wanted to sleep – he found his bathrobe on a hook by the tub and pulled it around him, the quilted silk rubbing against his arms. Then, he opened the door and found Samantha wiping down the basin by the door.

"Sorry," she said quickly, moving out of his way, though her eyes followed him to the bed where he sat and yawned.

His nervous heart was racing, and he had nothing at all to say to her. This was the first time they'd been in the same room together since—the incident the other night.

"Oh Roderic, do something," she said suddenly, turning around.

"Like—what?" he stumbled, taken aback.

"Anything," she said, crossing her arms in front of her.

She looked like she was preventing herself from springing on him, which made him more than a bit wary.

"You know I am not good in situations like this," he said nervously, heart speeding up even more. She looked beautiful, even in the scratchy brown uniform dress.

"Do I have permission to take the initiative, then?" she asked.

_No._

"Yes," he heard himself say, pulse racing to the breaking point.

She took him by the shoulders and kissed him fervently, knocking any other thoughts out of his head. She pulled away for a moment and whispered, "I love you, Roderic," before kissing him again. Her skin was searing him, and he could feel her fluttering heartbeat through her hands. Tentatively, he kissed back, and her heart sped up as she pressed closer to him, encouraging him. Her hair slid onto his face, cool and slippery.

Somehow she ended up sitting on his lap with his arm around her waist and the other in her hair, and the world felt like it was spinning out of control.

The door opened with a soft click.

* * *

**Final word count: 2232**

**That chapter ended with a bang, didn't it? Zowie. So, opinions, as usual. What do you think of Mara Leigh? Jody? Samantha? Roderic? Who's at the door? You don't even have to guess, you can all just chant it at the same time, because yes, it's probably who you think it is. Who else would it be? **

Celestial Seraphim**: Thank you for telling me it was well written BEFORE you said you hated it. Little things like that I appreciate greatly. It was one of my most/least favorite chapters in the long run as well. I liked how it came out, hated the content. Ugh. Samantha deserves to be unliked by the readers for that. Wicked child. Well, don't be too hasty on the Katharine front. She could also just not know what to say. You know, passing it off as nothing is a common way to avoid talking about it. Or she could be mean. You've seen how she was in the beginning. Now that I've planted both thoughts firmly in your mind, I'll let you decide. I liked the touch with Celeste too – so many times they say "I'M GOING TO DIE!" and everyone else says "NO YOU'RE NOT!" and then they do. That's boring. I had to make it a little more real. I'm sure she felt like she was going to die! Good guess on Roderic, but no.**

Bingo7**: --laugh-- He's not **_**too**_** old. I thought it was a good age, too. Apparently, otherwise I wouldn't have made him that old. She is confusing him more and more, isn't she? Devious women... she knows how to manipulate him, that's for sure.**

FaylinnNorse**: T****hat's one of my favorite lines too – because you **_**know**_**that most guys don't think newborn babies are "just so cute". Good eye about Samantha's character. Yes, ultimately, she is very selfish. Oh look, finally someone who doesn't hate Samantha. Thank you. Now, I think you are one of two. --chuckle-- But you're right, she needs to back off and respect his morals. --laugh!-- You and **Celestial Seraphim** both got completely different things out of the Rod/Katty conversation. He thought she was being rude and uncaring, you thought she was being slightly sweet for caring who he was spending time with. Oh the joys of different readers. And he **_**definitely**_**should feel guilty, which was why I was exceedingly careful to put that bit in. And good guess about his trait, but no.**

Ellsbeta**: Yes, Leigh is for Lee, pronounced the same way. He should send her to another castle! Unfortunately, he cares too much for her happiness. Bugger. Good guess about Katty – wait and see. Good guess about Roderic's trait – but no.**

Clar the Pirate**: Top hole! You're absolutely right; no contractions for the upright-uptight Roddy. I owe you a one-shot, then. What would you like? --hands you a menu-- You can let me know via review or PM, whichever you like. I could not end something like that **_**too**_**soon, as you can see by this chapter. It is interesting, isn't it? Despite the fact that I'm grinding my teeth, I have to admit that she snarls it up nicely and keeps things from getting boring. His not contracting does sound awkward sometimes, which is why I was surprised when we had gotten this far and nobody had mentioned it. (Out of curiosity, did you find the one place where he does use contractions?) I'm terribly happy that he's stayed in character all this time. --relief-- And you spent a lot of time analyzing his speech habit; surprisingly in-depth. Good work. Have another croissant. With... butter? --hands you one-- I'm not sure exactly what you meant by your question about the Flannlin's and food; they do have money saved up, but the weather was dreadful, and then when she went into labor he wasn't really thinking about it. Did that answer it? Oh, Samantha is terribly optimistic, when it comes to keeping Roderic under her power. And for good reason. She's awfully good at it.**

daring2dream**: Wow, single longest review from you ever! Yes, of course that makes me happy. I love long reviews. Samantha has a pretty divided fanbase. Some people hate her, some people like her. (I think we now have three that like her) I have to keep my opinion secret, of course, but that ****is**** amusing. She's very crafty and sweet, yes indeed. Isn't it nice that Rod's thinking for himself? A refreshing switch. And, it's less stressful too. Good observation; yes, Celeste gave Mara Leigh Jody's last name, which I originally just did because, well, they're married, but now that I think about it, you're right. She could have given her Lee's name, but it does show how she trusts him. Good eye. The characters pretty much write themselves, and sometimes I don't fully realize why they do what they're doing until people like you point it out. Have an extra croissant. --hands you one-- Respects to Lee, yes, but they are cute, aren't they? They were cute as friends too, but you didn't really see them as kids. They only existed in my imagination. --smile-- An heir from the royal couple will be expected at some point, but I think they're both kind of ignoring that blatant point. Wouldn't you? Katharine knows, yeah, because he told her about that first one, remember? And he brings them up occasionally, as points in discussions and things like that.**

Crayola Color Sky**: Good guess, but no. He does gnaw his lip when he's nervous, though, good job noticing that. Extra croissant for you. With **_**nutella**_**. --hands you the amazing croissant of chocolatey goodness, wishing I had one-- Samantha is strange... and Roderic doesn't really act his age. He's been babied and treated like a kid all his life, and he doesn't really have anyone to compare himself to that's his own age, until he met Katharine. He might have even unconsciously equated himself with Johnathon, who is a good 6 years younger than he is.**

Emma A. Piper**: Well, I'm glad you reviewed now! --smile-- Oh, another Samantha hater! I should start keeping score between the two groups. It was terrible for me to write Roderic giving in, I have to admit, but I figure he would. I mean, he's got very little girl experience under his belt. I think he'd be pretty susceptible to a pretty lady hitting on him forcefully. And guys are really visual and physical, and Samantha was taking advantage of that. She was playing the system, if you will. Under different circumstances, I could see him easily turning his back and running, but that was a pretty intense situation for the poor guy who didn't really see it coming. Oops. Well, there was a repeat occurrence. Do you hate him now?**

Mazkeraide**: --scratches head-- That is rather picky, and also rather impossible. One of them is inevitable. Well, I guess, one of them has already happened. Heh. Yes, the pairs are going to meet before the end, definitely. I'm actually holding out a prize for whoever can guess how it's going to happen, though I haven't gotten any guesses in a while. I'm not sure if I could get this published anyway. I mean, it's second-hand work, right? Why print something lots of people have already read for free? Oh well. I might try, someday. --waggles finger-- You shouldn't be reading my story when you're grounded. Believe me, it'll still be here when you return!**

**I'll hand out generous portions of Green Fluff to reviewers this chapter. (It's an interesting combination of pistachio pudding mix, Cool Whip, marshmallows, and crushed pinapple. Unless you're allergic to nuts, don't knock it 'til you try it.) So, REVIEW!**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Mazkeraide**, and **Clar the Pirate**, for pointing out my inconsistencies!**


	23. A Wise Man Builds

**18 . 1 . 08**

**Recap: Samantha and Rod in a very intimate position, door clicks open. --hits play button--**

* * *

_"It seemed that all royalty was supposed to simply put away all of their hopes, dreams, and fantasies in honor of serving their country. It was the price for being great. Or perhaps more like the price for being proper. To truly be great, one had to give up even more. Something like all one's happiness or even life itself."_

Across the World --FaylinnNorse

* * *

"I'm coming in, Roderic. I hope you're not asl—oh hello!" 

Katharine stopped after opening the door a few feet. Roderic immediately shoved Samantha off his lap, steadying her subconsciously so she wouldn't fall. Katharine smiled and started to shut the door.

"Terribly sorry, you two. I'll come back in an hour or so."

Her tone was light, almost humored, and her face was amused. Roderic's gut flipped over. Wasn't she going to yell? _Why would she? _The door clicked again and Samantha, who had been flushing slightly in preparation to defend herself, turned back to him with a grin.

"Told you."

She settled back onto his lap and looked into his eyes adoringly.

"You know Roderic, my times with you are the highlights of my life. You wouldn't believe how terrible I was after you left. I almost starved to death accidentally. Shelly – that quiet girl from the kitchen? – she was the one that kept me alive. She kept telling me to get over you and move on with life, but I just couldn't. I knew I had to see you again."

"Why me, Samantha?" he asked, totally aware of her warmth resting on him. Without thinking, he curled his arm back around her waist and settled on her hip.

She smiled brightly.

"Why not you?" she asked, fingering the fabric of his robe.

"I am quite a bit older than you," he pointed out self-consciously.

"That doesn't matter to me," she said carelessly. "You are the most handsome, most caring man I have ever met, and I have met a lot. I love you, Roderic. I love you, and I will always love you."

She rested her head on his shoulder and sat, completely vulnerable, in his lap. He thought about everything she had just said as he held her. Her words only made things more confusing to him. She loved him? That much? And suddenly, it was clear to him. He felt like a fool for not realizing it before, and he felt sick with the idiocy he had let himself get into. He could feel his stomach churn.

"Samantha," he said quietly.

She lifted her head and looked at him, the joy springing from her eyes.

_She is making this more difficult._

"Samantha," he tried again, "I do not love you."

Her entire countenance fell, and he could almost hear her heart dropping.

"It takes time to love someone," she said reassuringly, gathering herself back up again. "Don't give up on me too quickly."

"I am not giving up on you quickly," he said firmly. "I have given this a lot of thought. And you know me. I have given this a _lot_ of thought, and I have just realized that no matter how much you love me, or how beautiful you are, no matter how many times you kiss me, I still do not love you in the same way, and I never will. I consider you a wonderful friend, and I care very dearly for you, but the simple truth is; I am married. Nothing we can do will change that now. Maybe if things had not worked out this way, we would have a chance.

"But Samantha, I cannot compromise my honor as a gentleman to please my fleshly desires. I would like to think that I am stronger than that, though these last two episodes have proved me wrong. You are young and beautiful, and there is someone out there for you, I know. There is someone who is waiting for you to make him totally and completely happy. And he will make you happy too, Samantha. You have to give it a try."

"Roderic, I – I can't love anyone else," she said, her voice cracking as tears welled up in her brown eyes.

He could feel tears starting to prick his own eyes, but he pushed them back.

"You have not tried," he said soothingly. "Give yourself some time."

"I don't want to love anyone else!" she cried. "You are perfect Roderic! You are absolutely perfect and it breaks my heart to imagine my life without you."

"I am hardly perfect," he said with a wry grin. "There is someone out there for you."

"There is no one for me but you," she said, tears starting to fall.

He eased her off him and stood with her.

"Give yourself time, Samantha," he said gently.

She threw herself at him, clinging to him and crying into his robe.

"I can't, Roderic. It hurts too much."

She grabbed his face and kissed him again, hard and wild. His gut turned over again and he fought his instincts to kiss her back. _This is wrong! _He gingerly pried her hands from his cheeks and looked at her pleadingly.

"Please do not make this any harder than it already is."

"It doesn't have to be this hard!" she said, eyes red and swollen from crying. Tears continued to slip down her cheeks. "You can love me! You have to love me! I can't live without you!"

"Samantha, please," he begged. "I am sorry for everything, but I promise that you can go on."

"How do you know?" she questioned bitingly.

"Humans have good fortune recovering from things like this."

"I thought you understood me, Roderic," she said in a low voice. "I thought you knew how much I needed you. I thought you were willing to give up some things to make us happy."

He wanted to say, "You will be happier this way," but he couldn't force the words out. He just stood, fists down by his sides, and looked at her. She left the room quietly, giving him one last painful look before closing the door.

Roderic sat heavily on the bed and put his head in his hands.

_I have messed this up. That whole thing was wrong, very wrong, and I almost let myself let it go on. How could I even let myself start that? And I obviously did not do a good job ending it. In the name of peace. I cannot get anything right._

He had a sudden thought.

_I am going to have to apologize to Katharine. If I am going to end this, I have to do it _right_ this time. _

_In all likelihood, she _was_ happy that I was on the borderline of an affair._

He shuddered at the thought. An affair. He hadn't really considered that that's what it was. He forced his thoughts back the topic at hand.

_But even if she did not mind, I will have to apologize, anyway, because it is the right thing to do. She will probably be mad at me for breaking it off, and we will have another long argument about the value of my morals._

Samantha's tear-stricken face swam in front of his eyes and he groaned. _I hate this. Why can there not be a way to do this in which nobody ge__ts hurt? But I do not love her, I was only attracted physically – how stupid can I be? How stupid! I __put the very fragile trust beginning in our marriage on the line for the sake of a momentary passion!__ Absolutely degenerate, crude, and idiotic. Not to mention juvenile. I had a _crush_ on her, and it could have ruined any hope of getting along with Katharine, had she been at all different. _

_Funny, I thought I was too old for crushes. I suppose not._

_A crush! How could I be so blind! Not everything is true love or friendship, Roderic. It is not one end of the spectrum or another; there are hardly any absolutes in the world. Just because you are older does not mean you will not still have crushes._

_But oh, they are so much more destructive than they were back then. I wonder how Lady Eleanor is. Hum. I have not seen her since we were sixteen._

_Focus._

_So you just got rid of Samantha. Delicately too. Nice job. She will be crying for weeks. She needed it, though. And of course she will find somebody else._

_A crush! Ugh!_

His tired thoughts couldn't stay on one topic long, and soon, with a heavy heart, he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"You don't have to do this, you know." 

The beautiful girl linked her arm in his and smiled. He looked over at her with a look of wonder and admiration before he responded.

"I don't have to do anything, unless you tell me to."

"Oh stop it," she said easily. "I wouldn't tell you to do anything."

They made their way through the darkened streets, lantern held securely in the girl's whimsically swinging hand.

"Someone's going to see us," she chided without reprimand, lacing her fingers in his calloused hand.

"It's too dark for them to recognize us. We'll just look like any other couple making their way to Lovers' Field to watch the stars," he assured her, nuzzling her cheek with his nose.

She giggled and shied away from his touch, pushing open the rusted gate that marked the outer boundary of the city. A short walk led them to Lovers' Field, where the stars shone brilliantly in a picture-perfect scene of a romantic evening, as it was named.

She set the lantern down on the ground and clambered into his lap like a child, securing his arms around her.

"You know, I'm almost not afraid when you're with me," she mentioned matter-of-factly, twisting her head to look at his young, round face.

He kissed her cheek and pulled his arms tighter.

"Only almost? Can you ever be totally unafraid?"

She smiled coyly.

"Oh maybe."

He played along.

"What would I have to do to make you unafraid?"

She tapped her lower lip with one finger in contemplation.

"You'd have to distract me from realizing how dark it is."

"And how could I do that?" he wondered aloud, staring off into the stars for inspiration.

"I don't know," she said mournfully. "That's the trouble."

"I think I might have a solution," he said quietly, mouth spreading into a grin.

"Oh? What's that?"

He pulled her tighter against him and kissed her deeply. Her eyes fluttered closed and she clung to him, like she was afraid he would run away. When he pulled away, he trailed kisses down her neck to her collarbone. She shivered delightfully and batted him away.

"Do control yourself, Turner," she teased, twirling a lock of his hair between her fingers.

"Did I distract you well enough?" he asked. "Or must I try again?"

"I think that was good enough to be going on with," she said lightly, turning back around and settling against him.

They remained in that position for a long time, sometimes commenting on the brightness of one star or another, but mostly just soaking up each others' presence. Eventually, Turner stood up, lifting her easily to her feet as well.

"We'd best get you back before you're missed," he said regretfully.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him again, but only briefly. A tease.

"That's not fair," Turner pouted. "You always cut it off before I can do anything."

"That's exactly right," she said impudently, kissing his nose. "And you're right. We had better head back."

"It's a good thing I love you, or I wouldn't take that from anyone."

"It is a good thing you love me; no one else will."

He took her hand again, protectively winding his arm around hers and keeping her close to his side. She held the lantern in front of them, the dim light illuminating the expression on her young face. Despite her flippant words, her eyes were bright and a sparkle of a smile played about her mouth. She glanced over at him every once in a while and the sparkle glowed.

"Oh, look at this!" he exclaimed in the silence, making her jump.

She swung the lantern over to see what he was talking about, shuddering at the sudden darkness around her.

"Here, give me the light a moment," he said, holding out his hand, "this is incredible! It looks like this stone was once a statue! I didn't really notice until the lantern swinging suddenly made me imagine it as an eagle."

She hesitated, then passed the lantern to him. The darkness closed in around her and she edged closer to the stone he was examining, clutching his cloak in her fingers. Distracted by his find, he pulled out of her grasp and walked around the stone, eyes lit up with curiosity.

She shivered now, unable to control her reaction to the creeping darkness, and pulled her cloak tighter around her.

"Turner," she said in a squeak, tearing her eyes from the gloom and looking at her protector.

For an instant she saw the hand, glimmering dagger drawn, but before she could scream, it had ripped noiselessly through Turner's throat and disappeared. He crumpled to the ground and the lantern fell, smashing against the stone and throwing her into total darkness.

She screamed, a wretched sound of raw terror and horrific loss. Instantly, someone was beside her. A strong arm wound itself around her waist and hot breath burned her ear.

"You're mine, Katharine," it said, and kissed her ear.

She whimpered and tried to free herself from his grasp, eyes darting about wildly in the dark.

* * *

Roderic sat straight up in bed with a gasp. Half of an instant later, the light turned on and he saw Katharine breathing heavily, blowing out the match. Her hand was shaking, but it soon stilled, forced by her rigid self control. 

"Are you alright?" he asked, not sure whether he meant just now, or then, or what.

_That was certainly a strange dream. It could not have been happening just now. I must have imagined it._

"Fine," she puffed out, then looked at him and managed a smile. "Bad dream. Sorry I woke you."

"You did not wake me," he murmured, suspicious of her shaken state. "I had a bad dream too."

Her forced laugh quivered a little.

"How unlucky."

"Indeed," he said quietly, watching her.

Her face was set in an effortless portrayal of minor embarrassment as she slid back under the covers, shivering a little. He noticed she was a bit closer to the middle of the bed than she had been before. She turned and faced away from him, but she evidently wasn't asleep, because her breathing was a forced steadiness.

"Are you sure?" he asked again, trying to assimilate the strange dream with her seemingly normal behavior.

She turned her head and gave him a bemused expression.

"I'm a big girl, Roderic. I think I can handle a nightmare."

Still, a reserve in her eyes seemed to scream otherwise.

"What did you dream about?" he asked carefully.

Her answer was prompt.

"I was falling."

Her shudder seemed to revisit the thought. It looked just like the shiver the dream-Katharine had when the lantern was swung away. An irrepressible trembling. He had never seen her like that before, and it unnerved him.

"What did you dream about?"

He considered lying, then vetoed the option. Lying wasn't a good thing to do, and he was amazingly unskilled at lying. She knew that.

"You, actually," he said, gaging her response.

She didn't bat an eye.

"Am I that frightening?"

"It was not just you. You were with someone else, and you were younger. And he died. It was a strange dream."

She trembled again and she rolled over closer to him.

"You dreamt that?" she asked quietly.

"Did that actually happen?" he asked, horrified.

The fearful, questioning look in her eyes slipped away, leaving a cool facade behind.

"Don't believe everything you dream," she said softly, her eyes focusing sharply above his own.

Revulsion and horror pumped through his veins and he stared at her, aghast.

"That is why you do not like the dark," he said inaudibly. "You would not give me the lantern."

Anger and fear etched her face for a moment.

"Look Roderic, just because the naiad gave you freaky dreams, that doesn't mean all your dreams are going to mean something. You probably ate something before you went to bed."

"You are not convincing me," he said, looking at her. "I can see the terror in your eyes."

She froze, staring at him, then turned away.

"Fine. I dreamt about that too. And yes, it actually happened, a long time ago. My father found the person responsible and had him put to death quietly. It wasn't easy – he was nobility – but my father is persuasive."

She pulled her legs up and hugged her knees, resting her chin on top of her arms.

"Happy now? You going to feel sorry for me and treat me like an open wound? I hate that, you know. That's most of the reason why I didn't tell anyone. If father wanted them to know, they knew. And they always looked at me with that sick, craven expression of feigned sympathy. It made me want to throw up. If you do that too, I just might. It was a long time ago."

Her knuckles were white from the pressure of gripping herself so hard, and her angry eyes stared straight ahead.

"I would tell you to go ahead and laugh at me being afraid of the dark, but I know you wouldn't. You're too naturally sympathetic for your own good, Roderic. One day, someone who needs your comfort is going to hurt you when they've got what they wanted, and they'll leave you without a thank you."

"Who was he?" he asked, ignoring her attempt to end the conversation.

"The killer?" she said dully. "A jealous young duke. Barron was his name."

"No, Turner," he clarified.

She glanced over at him.

"A nobody. Commoner. Peddler."

"Why did your father put the noble to death?"

"Because he hurt me," she said with a thin smile. "That is one thing I can say for my family – they did everything to make sure I was never hurt. And even though Turner was below nothingness, his death hurt me, so they got rid of the person who did it. Simple as that."

Roderic shook his head a little in wonder and they lapsed into silence. She stared at the wall and he stared at her, watching for any betrayal of her real emotions. She remained still, in a not-quite-relaxed position, until she reached over and blew out the light.

"We'd better sleep," she said, burrowing into the warmth.

Roderic peered into the dark for a few seconds, steeling himself. It would be easier to get the apology over with now, even though every fiber of him was screaming to wait. _Wait until when? _He thought savagely, but truthfully. He would put it off forever. He had to do it _now._

"Katharine?"

"Hm?" she remarked, and he detected an attempt to sound sleepy. She was still wide awake.

"I have to explain what you saw earlier."

"What are you talking about?" she said, and he couldn't tell whether she was serious or not.

"With Samantha," he started, swallowing, and she interrupted him.

"I'm really very sorry. I had no idea."

She sounded sorry. That hurt him, somehow.

"No, do not be sorry. It was wrong of me. I was weak, and I wanted to apologize for my unfaithfulness."

His speech was overly formal, but he was nervous and his tongue automatically formed the words. There was movement from her side of the bed and he looked over. Her dark eyes captured the dim firelight and reflected it with a starlike quality.

"You wanted to apologize?" she said, her voice was flat and her face unreadable.

"Yes," he said boldly, preparing himself for her sarcasm.

"Well." She laid back down, disappearing behind the blankets. "I accept your apology."

And nothing more was said on the matter.

* * *

Jody sat in his chair, wishing he had his pipe. 

Naturally, Celeste had put an absolute ban on smoking in the house after Mara Leigh was born. For the past six months, all smoking had been relegated to the outdoors. Jody, who had spent all day outdoors working with the irrigation crew, wanted nothing more than to be inside. It was at least relatively cool. _Golly, I want my pipe!_

"Don't bother Daddy," he could hear Celeste saying.

He winced slightly at the name. He was _not_ her father, and was less than half the father Lee could have been. He had no other name to suggest, however, so he'd let it be. _It's easier for her to say anyway, _he kept telling himself. He felt a tug on his pants' leg and glanced down, meeting two tiny emerald eyes under the thick blonde hair. She just looked at him cheerfully, a toothless smile set in place, and wobbled unsteadily, clinging to the fabric of his pants and the wood of the chair. Her eyes were totally expectant; she knew what he was going to do. He'd done it before, and surely he wouldn't fail her now! He looked around, as if expecting someone watching, then quickly swung her up next to him. She plopped down by his side, looking around the room from this higher vantage point in case anything had changed while he was lifting her.

"Mara Leigh? Can you help Mommy wash dishes? Where are you?"

Celeste looked over the back of the chair and saw Mara Leigh sitting serenely by the man's side.

"I'm sorry, Jody," Celeste said, walking around to the front of the chair. "I turn my back for one minute and she's off. Wanna help Mommy, Mare-mare?"

Mara Leigh grinned and hid her face in Jody's shirt.

"Do you mind?" Celeste sighed at him.

He could see the watchful, wary look in her eyes. He grunted and she huffed lightly before walking off to wash the soup pot. Mara Leigh unburied her face, but laid her head on him, eyes still scanning the room, alert for any change in scenery.

_We're going to have to put her in school eventually, _Jody realized. _Golly, that'll be a tough thing to manage. I wonder if Miss Conneray is still teaching. She was a young thing when we were there – the secret crush of the older boys. Nice lady. Saved Lee's neck once; oh, that was a good day. Why was I mad at him? Oh yeah. He said I could ride his new mare, then took it back. That was a fight to remember. He actually hurt me._

"_You promised!" Jody shouted angrily, shaggy black hair flopping over his eyes._

"_Did not!" Lee, the stocky, short one, argued._

_He valiantly stood his ground against Jody, though he was easily a head and half shorter. They glared at each other and a crowd began to gather, everyone shouting that Jody and Lee were fighting. Lee's face was grubby and his clothes stained with mud and sprinkled with hay. He had obviously just come from the barn. Jody's clothes were slightly too small for him, as they normally were, and sported oil stains along with the customary dirt and grass. He had recently began to help his father in the forge, and got the dirty job of oiling axles most of the time._

"_Liar!" Jody yelled, breaking the tense silence. "You promised I could ride it the first day!"_

"_I didn't either!" Lee said stubbornly._

"_Liar liar!" Jody shouted, jumping at Lee._

_Lee screamed girlishly, much to the amusement of the onlookers, but met the gangly lad with his fist out, scoring the first hit – a hefty punch to the jaw. Jody was heavier, though, and the blow didn't knock him backward like Lee hoped. He still landed on Lee hands first and they both tumbled backwards, punching and grappling for the top position._

_After only a minute or two, Jody was obviously winning, but Lee refused to quit, twisting and dodging the blows he could see past the blood in his eyes from his pouring nose._

"_Stop it! Oh, Miss Conneray, make them stop, oh please!"_

_The high girly voice, squeaky with panic, issued from a much younger Hallie, dragging a woman of twenty past the ring of spectators which included Celeste who was yelling as loud as she could for Lee._

_The fair skinned teacher didn't blink, just jumped lithely between the two, taking Jody's formidable hit on the stomach, and Lee's in the small of her back. She didn't flinch, and thus gained several points of respect from the younger boys._

_Both boys gaped in horror at what they had just done, and several of the older boys growled, pushing up their sleeves. Lee swallowed thickly in fear._

"_I expect more of you, Jody," she said quietly, then lowered her voice so only he heard. "But doesn't everyone? You almost look like an adult, but you're a kid too. I respect that. Still, fighting is unacceptable, and it is downright cowardly when you have such an advantage."_

_She turned to Lee._

"_Master Wilson. I suggest that you keep your word. Girls like an honest man."_

_She smiled in the direction of Lottie, who was reservedly eying Lee like she might be impressed. Lee looked down and wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve, making little difference._

"_Go get cleaned up, boys," she said with a smile._

_The children dispersed, and Jody mentally checked himself for casualties. His jaw was throbbing like nobody's business, and Lee had managed to clip the corner of his eye. He could feel it beginning to swell. It was the worst he had ever come off in a fight._

_Celeste caught his eye and stuck out her tongue at him savagely. Jody stuck his tongue out even further, though moving his jaw felt like he was ripping it off. The look on her face was worth every bit of pain. He laughed aloud and skipped home to face his stepmother's anger and fussing. His father would meet him at the door with a bear hug, then jokingly ask which horse kicked him._

_Melissa and Cassidy would not be amused, however, and would give him a lecture he wouldn't forget in a hurry. _Stupid older sister and stupid carbon copy stepsister,_ he thought good-naturedly, and began devising a version of the fight to tell Leann and Sammy, the twin fistfighting stepsiblings. Seeing their bright faces would make up for the lectures._

Jody smiled in remembrance, idly wondering how his family was. They had moved to Linsit shortly after he finished school, and Jody had stayed to carry on the blacksmithing here. Saying goodbye to his father had been the hardest – he had always been close to his father, closer to him than Melissa, who had been grateful for a mother again and attached herself to his new wife. The girls' goodbyes had been the wettest, and the twins' the most physically painful. They resented that he wasn't coming with them. The bruises lasted a week.

He'd only seen them twice since then, once for Cassie's wedding, and the next for Leann and Melissa's combined wedding. His father was only just turning grey then, and was letting nothing stand in his way.

_How did he manage to raise Melissa without Mom? _he wondered. _I didn't think I'd need to pay attention to parenting back then._

He felt something warm on his leg and snapped his head down to see what had happened. He was surprised to see Mara Leigh's head on his lap, her hot breath waking him from his reverie. One hand was curled underneath her shirt, no doubt resting on her bellybutton. Her bellybutton was like her security blanket, which amused Jody. How could one derive comfort from a bellybutton?

"Bedtime, Mara Leigh," Celeste said, coming in from outside with a clean, dry pot and ladle.

Mara Leigh lifted her head and looked at Jody. He almost laughed. Her face was furrowed in pleading consternation, a humorous combination.

"Time to go, squirt," he muttered, handing her to Celeste.

She whined, peering over Celeste's shoulder at Jody with sleepy eyes. Celeste hushed her and hummed as she walked into the bedroom.

_I'm in way over my head,_ he thought, rubbing the bridge of his nose. _How could this happen to me? How is she going to grow up like a normal kid? Unlike other people, I didn't really have the choice of whether or not I wanted to be responsible for a kid. I can't do this._

Celeste came back and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You alright?" she asked. "Tired?"

"Tired and overwhelmed," he said.

She rubbed her thumbs into the cords of muscles across his back and he forced himself to relax.

"Good heavens, Jody, you're tense!" she exclaimed, pushing harder and squeezing his shoulders with the rest of her fingers.

"I've been thinking," he defended, closing his eyes.

_Golly, that feels good._

"Oh, that explains it," she said sagely.

He twisted his head around and stuck his tongue out at her. She stuck her tongue out right back, then whapped him gently upside the head.

"Turn around."

He complied, letting his eyes close as Celeste's small fingers worked out the knots in his muscles.

* * *

**Final word count: 4884**

**Whew, this chapter was busy. What did you think of the revelations? What did you think of Samantha's reaction? Roderic's reasonings? Katharine's new facet of personality? Mara Leigh's cute factor? Jody's thoughts? Opinions!**

Ellsbeta**: Craving, indeed? That's flattering. Jody is an interesting guy, and very fun to write about. He's so complicated, but so simple. He's really a joy. And no kidding, Mara Leigh definitely needs a daddy, or she's not going to be a well-acclimated little girl. Come on, Jody! You can do it! Roderic was terrible, wasn't he? Did you feel better about him in this chapter? I did. --laugh-- It was horrible, writing about my sweet little Roddy doing something SO WRONG. And I think the whole problem is, no one has ever really let him be a man. His only real dominance has come from the councils, because he knows the laws and stuff like that. When it comes to women, though, you'll notice that both of the girls in his life are very overbearing. Samantha's brazen forwardness is almost masculine, and Katharine's indisputable air of authority is over him. He was subconsciously desperate to prove himself as a man, to prove that he _can _make a decision, even if it meant something wrong. He just wanted someone to make him feel like the man he should be, and Samantha was doing that well, once he let down his defenses. Wonderful quote; I've never heard that one before.**

Celestial Seraphim**: I promise it will have an at least satisfactory ending, as I promised for Nasap. Apparently, however, Nasap's wasn't satisfactory to you, so I suppose I can't really promise anything. --wicked grin--**

Crayola Color Sky**: Nutella really is one of the best things in this world. --sigh of longing-- Too bad I haven't any croissants. I'll have to make do with regular old bread. Was Katharine's entrance what you expected? --hands over the marshmallows--**

daring2dream**: It is interesting, and yummy too. Poor Jody, indeed. He feels really awkward and definitely like he's intruding, especially when Celeste makes a side-comment like that. "She gets it from you." It just reminds him even more that Mara Leigh isn't his, and never really will be his. (As a bit of speculation, one would have to wonder if it hurts him so much because he _wants_ her to be his? Take that as you will.) Ugh, the challenge of writing this is that I'm writing totally from the guys' viewpoint. It's something I've never tried before, and, especially with Jody, it's really hard. He doesn't show a lot of emotion, and he doesn't _feel _a lot of emotion either. He's more logical, practical, and stuff like that. It's hard to write him sometimes. And you still like Samantha? You're right, she's very not proper at all (thank you for putting it nicely) and morals appear to be the last thing on her mind. Ah, young love. It's a dangerous thing, to be sure. What's worse was that Roddy was letting himself be reeled in. Ugh. About the time thing; Mara Leigh was born February 8th, so at five months or so, we're in July. Yup. Katty and Rod are earlier in the year, more like around March-April. Spot on, good job.**

FaylinnNorse**: I can't tell you how much I appreciate your faith in Rod. Everyone seems to either be happy with him and Samantha, or else be really mad at him for doing that. Well, I mean, I'm mad at him too, but still, when people are angry at my ****character it hits me right here. --pats heart-- Illogically or not, that's just the way it is. I love the way you phrased your reproof; "****Samantha is just trying to have one and Roddy hasn't gotten a hold of himself yet.****" Thankfully, Roddy did realize that. He was caught in a funk – a crush – and his already-muddled mind was pushed over the edge. It would happen to the best of guys, I think. Especially if some young, pretty lady was hitting on you **_**that hard.**_** That's why I did it, really, because otherwise it feels like he's just this perfect guy, the ultimate Prince Charming; he refuses the beauty's advances in a true display of moral fiber! Um, I don't think so, especially since he wasn't really brought up with morals. He just always did what everyone thought was best, which luckily usually put him on the right path because he was surrounded by wise people. He seriously needed to do something **_**wrong,**_**that he knew was wrong, and, unfortunately, that seemed like the most logical thing? Don't you agree? Still sad, though, and it made me really depressed. Thankfully, that's over, and we can move on with life. At least for the moment. Jody definitely feels out of place, and I can just imagine how awkward Celeste feels sometimes too. I mean, he's so obviously uncomfortable, and she's just trying to get him to relax and join the family. --sad face--**

Mazkeraide**: I told you it would still be here. Eh, I don't think Roddy really is... that. He's just confused, more than anything. I'm glad you love him, that's important. Aha! Thank you, about the baby thing. I fixed it. And, doh! Got me again. Yes, I replaced terrycloth – could you tell my fingers were on autopilot? I actually noticed it afterwards and decided to leave it in... for some dumb reason. Interesting scenario, but no.**

Queen Tabitha Tall**: Mara Leigh? Give up? Were you listening when I said she was stubborn like Celeste? --wink-- Aha! You think of Samantha just how I wished you all would. One out of ten-ish isn't bad. --grin-- Oh, and Rod wouldn't punch you... Samantha probably would, though, and she fights dirty. I'd hide.**

Clar the Pirate**: For being the least realistic character in the story, Mara Leigh sure has a fan club. I suppose it's the cuteness factor. Ah well. I love her too – I can't help it! She also demanded a little bit of her own in the story... I shouldn't say demanded, though, I suppose; one look from those big green eyes and I just _had_ to put her in more than a few sentences. I know what you meant. Wonderful metaphors, I don't mind at all. It's very true, if you think about it, though. I mean, Celeste is very short, and Lee wasn't a giant by any means, so physically and emotionally he has to tread very lightly. Or, at least, he feels like he does. Little does he know that people can make space for him, he just has to see it. Now I'm getting all metaphorical. On with the reply! Ah, sorry, no, not by a grandmother. By a fluttery step-mum. She probably gifted that on him rather than whatever his gruff blacksmith Dad would have said. And actually, he doesn't slip up there. Well, unless you count just the once, in his head. But never out loud. No, you'd like where he slipped up. And you are quite right about Samantha, which is just what's so terribly aggravating! If she had kissed him first, like the time before, we could be mad at her and not him. But, alas, he initiated it. Granted, she was throwing herself at him and firing all the cannons she could muster. It was a formidable threat to the poor man. Still. He is guilty. Argh, terrycloth indeed. I changed it, yes. Thank you. He is unimaginative when he's struck by their beauty, or their beauty isn't the main reason why he's thinking about them. I changed Samantha's though, because she doesn't deserve it nearly as much. I'm not sure what I was thinking, really. Oh well. Shout outs for you!**

ElvishKiwi**: Spankings area good idea. Slapped by reality, though, is what actually happened. Walloped on the bonce with a good old fashioned stick of wisdom. Is that good enough for you? Well, on the subject of Mara Leigh, it doesn't appear that he's quite as immune as he originally wanted us to think he was. Hum. I like being a favorite of the moment! --cheer!--**

Bingo7**Samantha is a character, that's for sure, and a rather interesting one at that. Selfish, though, that much cannot be argued. Yes, babies don't start walking 'til around one. She was a determined little squirt. Granted, she can't at all stand on her own. She can only move around by holding onto things, and then slowly. She isn't adept, but she seems to think it more fun than crawling, though she could go faster that way. Ah well. Stubborn children. And I fixed it so she wasn't actually sitting up at 2 months. That was a little too quick. This is a fairy tale, but I can't break **_**all**_**the rules of reality. (Just most of the them.)**

EKM**: Wow, thanks for the review! Aha, no problem. Computers are terrifically terrible sometimes. Oh good, I'm glad. I used it in this chapter! --smile-- Thank you for your encouragement, first of all, as that is exactly what I hope will happen through my writing. After all, what good would I do if it wasn't for Him? I'm infinitely glad that you still like him, and you have wonderful reasons for doing so. Tossed about he certainly was, but since then he's really grown up a lot, and I'm quite proud of him. Even though he fell temporarily, he's getting himself back up again to continue on the path that is right. Good observance of Katharine. I've actually thought my characters alive a few times... It's a sharp little jolt into the real world when I realize that they're not. Thankfully, I haven't said anything out loud yet, so I've not been mortally embarrassed.**

**Everyone likes Jody so much, which I feel very strange, as he's really not one of my favorite characters. I guess I'm better writing him than I thought, or something. But also, he is more relatable I think, which is probably part of it. You don't see his faults? Well, it's a little hard, since we're seeing him from his own point of view, but I can see them definitely there. For one, he has a short temper. Thankfully, he's managed to control that for the most part, since marrying Celeste. Go him! For another, he doesn't even really talk about his feelings, which is bad for you, to keep them bottled up inside for so long. He's a guy, and that's a normal guy thing, but I consider that a fault nonetheless. So, I guess those are his two major ones, but he's been working really hard to get over the temper thing, though. Kinsman redeemer, I can see that. Strangely, I didn't even think of Boaz and Ruth. --smacks forehead-- I love it when you guys find correlations I totally missed, and I was writing it! I suppose that shows that it's not REALLY me, doesn't it? A little bit of ministration from Celeste, here. I actually didn't think of that so much... I'll have to add in more later. Thanks for the idea! As for the good friendship – that was the entire point. Definitely. I'm terribly glad you're enjoying it, and I can't wait for your furthering opinions!**

**Wow! One of the longest chapters to date! **Celestial Seraphim**, are you proud of me? --laugh-- **

**As another note of interest, I'm asking for a vote on favorite characters. It's up in my profile, just waiting to be clicked. Because there are several sweet ones, I'm letting you pick up to two, if you wish. **

**REVIEW and I'll give you caramel chocolate brownies!**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Clar the Pirate**, for pointing out my typos! **


	24. All Is Fair

**25 . 1 . 08**

**Here's the next chapter, with the first quote I ever decided I wanted to use. --sniff-- Ah, sentimentality.**

* * *

_"That's not the worst of it."_

_Oh. Great. Now what. Next thing you know she's going to say I'm the Prince Charming. Heh, heh, wouldn't that be funny?_

_"I love you, Lance."_

A Prince, a Horse, and an Adventure --Bingo5

* * *

"Jody, can you make sure Mara Leigh doesn't go anywhere? I'll be right back," Celeste said, brushing his arm as she walked by. 

Jody nodded, glancing up from the diagram he was studying and looking at the napping girl on the chair. As usual, her hand was rubbing her bellybutton, and her other hand clutched a doll, using it as a pillow. He glanced back down at the diagram and vaguely heard Celeste enter the bedroom.

When she didn't come back for several minutes, Jody got up from the table, looking at Mara Leigh one more time. She was still sleeping. Assured of her safety for at least a minute, he made his way over to the room, rapping his knuckles on the doorframe before he entered.

"You alright in here?" he asked, rounding the corner and finding Celeste sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall with disconnected eyes.

Her fingers gripped a golden ring set with an emerald that Jody recognized as her engagement ring. He stopped, unsure.

"I'm okay," she said quietly, shaking herself and loosing a sigh.

She stood and placed the ring on the shelf of her book case.

"You sure?" he said cautiously.

"I'm sure," she said, smiling a little, but a film of sorrow spread behind her green eyes. "I just miss him sometimes, that's all."

"I miss him too," he said awkwardly.

She smiled a little more and hugged him.

"I know. That's why we're in this together. No one else would understand."

He patted her back gently.

"I better go check on Mara Leigh," he said. "You can stay here. I just wasn't sure what you were doing."

"No, it's alright," she said, letting go. "You keep working on that whatever-it-is. I'll watch her."

"It's a drill," he said, leading the way out of the room, "and I can do both at the same time."

"No," she said again, "I'll stay out with you."

She paused, sitting down beside him at the table.

"It's easier when I'm not alone."

He nodded, gripping the edge of the paper and curling it lightly.

"I know what you mean. Sometimes, I wonder if—"

He realized he was talking aloud and stopped, busying himself with the diagram and not looking at Celeste.

"Wonder what?" she said, curiously, but not pressingly.

"I just wonder if I would still be here, if I didn't have you and her to keep me grounded," he said hesitantly.

He picked up a stick of charcoal and darkened one of the lines, needlessly. She didn't say anything, and he slowly looked down at the expression on her face; she was thinking.

"Sometimes, I think the same thing," she said finally, then smiled softly at him. "It's a good thing we're here, then."

"Yeah," Jody said, still feeling illogically unprotected because of his previous words.

"I love you, d'you know that?" Celeste said, smile widening to a grin.

"Same here, girl," Jody said, matching her grin with a nervous one of his own.

_Talking to her about... stuff isn't so bad,_ he thought to himself. _She knows how to get out of the awkward easily._

"Mara Leigh sure loves you too," she said, once she had gotten a hold of his eyes. "How do you like her?"

He shrugged, breaking eye contact, and kept his tone light.

"She's a cute kid. Looks just like you."

"Mostly," Celeste corrected. "There's just enough Lee in there to recognize." She continued before Jody had to comment. "You know what, though? Every so often, she really reminds me of you."

Jody raised an eyebrow in question.

"Like that!" she said with a short laugh, pointing at his face. "She tries to do that _all the time._ Of course, she can only get both of them up there, but she'll _do_that, and I never really do. She's copying you."

"That's a frightening thought," Jody mumbled, only partly in jest.

"Not really," she contradicted, putting her elbows on the table. "You're a good example for her to follow."

"Yeah, right," he said humorlessly, adding another line to the diagram.

"Stop doing that," she sighed.

"I need to work on this," Jody said, looking at her pointedly.

"I didn't mean that," she clarified, gesturing at the paper, "I mean, stop underestimating yourself."

"Underestimating myself?" he echoed.

"You do it all the time. I can tell. Am I doing something to make you feel... unworthy? Inferior? Whatever the word is I can't find?" she said, stumbling over her words and grinning a little at the end.

"It's not you," Jody said honestly. "Not at all."

"Then what is it?" she asked softly.

"I'm just... not good enough," he said, knowing that that wasn't really what he wanted to say.

"You're more than good enough," she said immediately, her eyes widening in surprise. "You're the best—friend anyone could hope for."

Jody hardly noticed the small pause, and instantly disregarded it as he continued.

"Except for Lee," he heard himself saying before gave it permission to be spoken. _Wrong thing to say. Oh golly._

"You two are different," Celeste said, her tone still even.

She wasn't even starting to get defensive, which struck Jody strangely. Usually she would be in the beginning stages of frustration by now._Well, either frustration or depression._

"He would have been the best father," Jody said, looking back to his paper and starting another line.

"I'm not so sure about that," Celeste said quietly, putting her head on his arm. "I think you'll do just fine."

He wouldn't admit it to himself, but her words did give him a boost of confidence.

* * *

The months at the palace passed before Roderic realized what was happening. The war continued to drag on, and the generals were getting impatient. They insisted that the soldiers needed a boost in morale if they were going to end this with as few Rijhaddite-Terriotian lives lost as possible. Roderic was in meetings with increasing regularity, until they were discussing the war every third day and he hardly saw anything but battlefields in his dreams. His father also came to the palace, staying in the North wing and coming to most of the meetings. He hardly ventured out of his room, as reclusive as always, but Roderic didn't much mind. It was one less thing to worry about, and with Samantha, one less thing made a difference. 

She tried to catch Roderic whenever he was alone, so he was jumpy and preoccupied whenever he ventured off by himself. This tickled Johnathon.

"You should stop avoiding her," he said after finishing the narratives one day.

Roderic knew exactly what he was talking about; it wasn't the first time his friend had mentioned it.

"I cannot handle her, Johnathon," he repeated. "Every time I see her I feel like she is going to spring on me. It is almost like having a wild cat in my home."

"I think she is slightly more attractive than a cat," Johnathon mused.

"Then_you_ distract her, would you? I think you would be better for her anyway."

"I would hate to make you jealous," he said, a sly smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes.

"I would not be jealous," he insisted honestly. "Please. I do not know how much more of her I can take before I give in and feel guilty for the rest of my life."

"It's not that big a deal, Roderic," Johnathon said, resting his elbows on his knees. "It's not as if you and Katharine are in love. Samantha loves you. She has enough spunk for the both of you. You should give her a chance."

"Johnathon," he said firmly, "I may be the only one that feels this way, but I am also the only one that has to live with me. I cannot be with Samantha and retain a clean conscience. It goes against my morals."

"Maybe you need to change your morals," Johnathon said, equally firmly. "You're killing her, Roderic. Katharine doesn't care. I thought you were the unselfish one; what happened to you?"

Roderic looked at him, slightly puzzled. His arguments usually made more sense, and usually told him to quit paying attention to other people so much. _Now, I suppose, I have crossed the border. Selfish is not good either, but I hardly think it is selfish to keep my morals intact, and give Samantha a chance at a better life._

"She deserves more than this life," he said.

"She deserves nothing less than this life. Roderic, she is in _love_ with you. I don't think you understand fully what that means," Johnathon said, starting to get angry.

"Inform me," Roderic said. If anyone else had said it, it might have sounded sarcastic, but Roderic meant it completely; he did not understand love and its repercussions. He assumed you could not, really, until you were in it yourself.

"She admires you and respects you, and can't dream of her life with anyone but you. You are her world."

"That seems to be bordering on obsessive, and someone to be pitied. Surely there is more to life when you are in love?" Roderic said in alarm. The way this conversation was going, he was beginning to think that being in love was not a good idea.

"Not to Samantha," Johnathon said, softening. "Does that change your mind?"

"No," Roderic said immediately. "She has my pity, but not my love. I cannot grant her that which I have promised another, even if she has no intention of taking it."

"Katharine?" he said incredulously.

Roderic realized that he hadn't structured his last sentence well, but hesitated before correcting it. _Could—?_

"Figuratively, of course," he said hastily. "We are married."

"Oh that again," Johnathon said, glaring. "I don't know why you insist on holding to that. It's not a conventional marriage."

"Marriage is marriage," Roderic said without giving quarter.

"Unless it's a treaty!" Johnathon said hotly.

"It is still marriage," Roderic said coolly, keeping his temper admirably while his friend grew more frustrated.

"You are still that old stuffy prince, aren't you?" Johnathon said in disgust. "Life isn't all black and white."

Roderic left the room before things degraded further, and quickly located Katharine in the parlor, where she normally was when they weren't together. For the last months, he had begun to spend more time with her, to avoid Samantha, and Katharine had admitted she had been bored. She accepted his willing submission to her wit with all her natural grace and a wicked chuckle.

He began to enjoy meals, rides, walks, and conversations with Katharine even more than his alone time or time with Johnathon. After the many weeks of practice, his wit was much more comparable to Katharine's and their conversation grew more interesting, even touching on some deeper points as an added lagniappe. This was done cautiously at first, and masked in deliberate uncaring, but eventually they began to have excursive discussions of people's character on a daily basis. They decided on a few basic personality types and began fitting them to various people, honing and detailing them as they went.

This was both a source of amusement and a mental exercise for the two of them, and Roderic began to better understand her logic. She thought differently from him, constantly using historical figures as models for the nobles they were trying to analyze. Roderic, however, compared them to characters in famous books or people he knew. She saw history as a great plan that basically repeated itself every hundred years or so.

"It's true!" she insisted. "We're so stupid. I don't know _why_ we don't realize this and stop these bloody revolutions and civil wars."

Roderic could see her point, but as he was not terribly interested in history, couldn't discuss that point further.

That day, halfway through a conversation in which they were furiously attempting to fit Sir Pendegrast Elliot into a personality type, Roderic stopped paying attention to what she was saying and just stared at her. One eyebrow was low over her eye, while the other was lifted gracefully in bemused concentration. Her mouth was moving quickly, thinking aloud as she tapped a parchment with her quill and drew a few lines to his name. Her dark eyes roved about the paper, searching for the missing link, and her slender fingers gripped the edge unconsciously. He had a revelation similar to the one he had had with Samantha, with equally dire consequences.

He was in love with Katharine. He couldn't have been surer of anything in his life.

He was scared to death.

* * *

Jody began to notice a change in Celeste. It was gradual, but somewhat unsettling. She looked directly at him less while they were talking, and more at him when he wasn't looking. He would come in from the forge to find her dancing with the baby, humming under her breath. When he saw her, she would blush and stop. She would cook his favorite meals for no reason, and began wearing slightly nicer clothing. 

He was at an utter loss. So, as was his way, he asked,

"Celeste, what's up with you?"

"Wha?" she hummed distractedly, kicking a stray block back at Mara Leigh with her foot and checking the contents of the pot with her hands.

He reflected that now might not be the best time to ask. _But, I've already started._

"You've been acting really weird lately. What's going on?"

"Weird how?" She tasted the soup and made a face, grabbing a jar of seasoning from the shelf and shaking some in.

"Like um, I'm not sure how to say it. Just weird. Oh, I know, you're smiling more, and you look happier."

"Well, that's not a bad thing, is it?" Celeste raised an eyebrow at him playfully and returned her attention to Mara Leigh, holding out her hands to ask if she wanted to be picked up. Mara Leigh heaved herself to her feet with the aid of the chair.

"No, not really, I guess," Jody said, irked by the fact that she was not appreciating his levity, "but it's weird. What happened?"

"N—othing," she grunted, lifting Mara Leigh into the air.

The girl shrieked in delight and Jody winced.

"Would it be too much to ask if you would look at me while I'm talking?" he said, toning down the sharpness in his voice. He congratulated himself – he had gotten much better at controlling his temper.

"Sorry," she said, and placed Mara Leigh securely on her hip, then looked at him.

"I'm being serious," he said.

"Sorry," she repeated sincerely. "I'm listening."

"You've been acting weird," he repeated. "Something had to have happened."

She pursed her lips and looked away. Mara Leigh reached up and pulled a lock of hair free from the bun, glancing at Jody to see what he would think of this new development. Jody had a bad feeling that whatever Celeste said was not going to be welcome.

"Well, something sort of happened, I suppose," she said nervously.

"What is it?" he pressed, anxious himself, though he put on a reassuring facade. "Don't be nervous."

_If she did something stupid she's about to get an earful._

"I, um, I..."

She trailed off, staring intently at Mara Leigh who rubbed her belly button.

"... yes?"

"It's not really so much that something _happened_, but that I've begun to realize something," she said to Mara Leigh, who giggled and tried to grab her mother's nose.

"What's that?"

"I love you."

He narrowed one eye.

"Yeah, I love you too. Now what are you talking about?"

"No, I mean, more than a friend, Jody."

"What?"

Breath escaped him, leaving the word to fend for itself with the minimal air left in his lungs.

"I love you, as a friend, and as a husband." She appeared to anticipate this reaction, because though her eyes were sparkling, her brow was creased, and the hands gripping Mara Leigh were shaking.

"Celeste, you can't – you're not serious," he said flatly, knowing full well that she had hardly been more serious in her life.

"_You'll have to let go of me, Celeste," Lee said with an amused smile, though his eyes were shining with steadfastly unshed tears._

"_But what if – "_

_He covered her lips with his own for a sweet moment, then looked at her._

"_Don't doubt me. I'll come back."_

_Jody watched, wishing only for a moment that he could have someone like that. Then he smiled and shook the thought from his head; he wasn't done being a bachelor yet._

"_I love you, Lee," she whispered through her tears._

_Lee kissed her again, then whispered his own love back._

"_Come on, lover boy, we're going to miss the wagon," Jody called._

_Lee embraced Celeste then jogged to catch up with where Jody was waiting on the crest of the hill._

"_Be safe! Both of you!" Celeste called._

"_I love that woman, you know," Jody laughed. "She's such a mother."_

"_Well, she's mine," Lee said in a mock-growl._

"_Golly, I don't want her! I'd go batty if I had to live with her!" Jody cried._

"_It's really not that bad," Lee said._

"_What, you want me to move in with you guys?"_

_Lee laughed, and Jody joined him, picturing the havoc that would inevitably ensue._

"Jody, I'm serious."

"You can't!" he shouted, illogically angry. "You loved Lee!"

"I still do," she said firmly. "But Jody, Lee is gone. There will always be a special place in my heart for him, but I love you."

"You can't _do_that! What would Lee think?"

Guilt raged in his heart, screaming names at him. _Womanizer! Disloyal! Unfaithful! Untruthful! Betrayal!_

"I think Lee would want us to be happy," she said softly. Pain still glinted in her eyes at the topic of Lee.

"But you don't love me, not really. You only think you do. You and Lee had something special, I can never replace him!"

She set Mara Leigh down on the ground and she stood shakily, one hand gripping Celeste's skirt tightly.

"I don't want you to replace him. But I am allowed to love again, Jody."

He shook his hand free and stepped away.

"Not me. I can't do this."

She tried to stare at him, but found the height differential distracting. She stepped up on a chair and looked him in the eye. Mara Leigh, losing her stability, thumped backward onto her bottom.

"Jody, you're not betraying Lee by loving me."

A white-hot knife seared through his heart, releasing the pain once again. He screwed his eyes shut against the torrent, then felt her hands on his shoulders.

He was drowning in the wave of grief that he had tucked away, dammed in the back of his mind. But Celeste had found the weak point and blasted it open. He held her close, trying to clear his mind and needing a friend to help him.

"Celeste, I can't. You can't. We can't. Lee..."

She gripped him fiercely.

"You need to let him go," she said in his ear.

"I can't let him go."

"Yes, you can."

"No!" He let go of her, new guilt sickening his stomach. He had just actually encouraged her wayward affection.

"No, Celeste. You need to remember."

With that, he turned and walked from the room. He picked up the bag he had packed and slung it over his shoulder, and left the cottage without saying goodbye.

"_Daddy?"_

A quick stop in Albertte guaranteed that various townswomen would check on Celeste and a few friends would ensure that the hired hands were doing their job. Then, he joined the troupe of men heading off to war again and banished thoughts of her from his mind.

* * *

**Final word count: 3298**

**For everyone who might be thinking "Wow, that came out of nowhere!" Here's an explanation; I know it seemed very sudden (unless you were observant? Or hopeful?) that Celeste falls in love with him. The huge roadblock in writing from the guys' perspectives is that they don't notice things as much as we do, on a general basis. Roderic notices more things than Jody, however. Since Jody wasn't expecting this to happen, he didn't notice the little hints that may have been happening leading up to this day until they got really obvious. **_**He**_** didn't notice them, and so, neither did we. I hope that clears things up for you. I'll still accept any concrit, of course.**

FaylinnNorse**: I'm proud of Roddy too! --sniffle-- He's growing up. That phraseology for Katharine seemed so terrible, but true. And you know it has to be. Her family isn't really close-knit, not really. It's like they want to, but they don't know how. She really separated herself from them after that, too. I would be really disturbed if Katharine ever cried. It's just... not her. At all. I'm glad you liked it!**

Ellsbeta**: Brightens your day? Wow, I feel special. --happy grin-- You are stubborn, but think away about Katharine if you wish. You'll find out how she feels before the end, and you may be right. (or you may be wrong!) Oh, thanks, I love pulling people together. It's so much fun. She was afraid of the dark before that happened because... she just was. I'm afraid of the dark, for no real reason; I figured she could be too. Yeah, Jody and Celeste know each other so well it's really fun to write them. No words needed! There you go, a bit of talking earlier in the chapter. How do you think?  
**

Celestial Seraphim**: --holds up hands placatingly-- Wow, lots of all caps in that review. Almost scared me, but they were good capitals, so I was relieved. No flaming. --eep!-- Eh, Samantha does love him, he just lusted after _her_ is all. Hey now, expletives? Come come, CS...**

Crayola Color Sky**: Cliche can be fun! I'm making this as real as possible, so it's up to you to figure out whether they can realistically fall in love, too. Thanks, I love yours too. --smile--**

Queen Tabitha Tall**: It took me a while to figure out exactly what Roddy needed to say in that scene. I'm glad someone appreciated it for all it's upright, moral common sense. You'd think she'd derive some respect. Darn hard-to-read people. I was thinking lamps, and I figured there was the knob you could "flick" to turn it off, then I remembered that that only dims it. Duh. I fixed that, thanks. Thanks!**

Clar the Pirate**: Uh oh. Unfortunate repetition has caught someone's eye. Cadmus... I dunno. Do something. --muse definitely indicates that reviewers are MY job-- Okay, there are three Sams. If I had caught the Sammy thing earlier (I'm so thick sometimes. How did I not notice that? --hits head--) I would SO have correlated it with Jody. Actually, I might go back and change that, because that would rock beyond all reason. Sammy/Samantha is Jody's half sister? Talk about cool. So, I changed it. Wonderful idea. Thanks! Great speculation, too. Have another brownie. --hands one to you-- For info, they're in the same country. Allearsi (the palace) is right on the border between Rijhad and Terriot, and Jody and Celeste live in Rijhad near-ish to the border. Three days of hard riding. I imagine those two words as totally flipped meanings than you. That's weird. Like, knocking someone unconscious, so _sub_conscious would be while they're awake. I just looked it up, and either one could work. --shrug-- Yeah, Roderic is so lost when it comes to Katharine sometimes. --chuckle--**

CaptainFantastic**: 22: Hard to come back from? Uh oh. Oh, well, you like him very much. That's... good? I'm glad the characters are human. Whew. --wipes brow-- 23: I'm writing from Roderic's point of view, is the thing, and he really does think a whole lot. A _whole_ lot. Sorry for boring you, but it should get better. Ah, Rod is working his way back in, good. He did lead her on. Poor kid. She probably would execute you "PEASANT! GET IT OFF!" --shudder at thought-- She's such a brat. Deja vu is right; that's why she never let go of Rod.**

Emma A. Piper**: 22: Late is better than never. You're right, it would have been similar.Darn that Philettin archer! --shakes fist at sky-- But, also right, there wouldn't be much of a story. Except maybe Jody finding a girl tall enough for him instead of the blonde pixie he got stuck with. Heh. Jody is a strange character. He would be a strange person, too. You'd either love him or you'd hate him, and there wouldn't be much middle ground, except perhaps 'fearful respect'. He's a guy, though, speaking about his emotions is hard. She pulls some out of him in this chapter, though. Were you pleased? 23: Samantha merits my sympathies, but I'd have sympathy with a murderer who was killed in revenge, so I'm out of the picture. --laugh-- (just to straighten that up, I woudln't feel sorry for them because I don't think they should die, but because they were scared and in pain. Illogical? Oh yeah.) I'm not offended. Samantha needs a reality check. It would have been great if Katty gave him a hard time, but she wouldn't. Sadly. That is exactly how Jody feels as well, which is just reminding him MORE of Lee, and making him feel MORE unworthy and awkward.**

Mazkeraide**: You're right, doing the wrong thing for very long isn't Roddy's style. Thanks for letting Mara Leigh slide. I appreciate it. Oh, good thought.**

daring2dream**: Aw, forgetting what you were going to say is sad. --sad face-- It's hard to pity Katharine. She's just not very pitiable. But that would be one of the most terrible things that could ever happen to you. Ooo... --shudder-- Oh good, I'm glad the flashback had the purpose I was intending.**

**Remember to vote in the poll if you haven't yet! One character is definitely winning so far.**

**Review and I'll give you Slurpees!**

**Thank you, **Ellsbeta**, for pointing out my typo! **


	25. Miserable at Best

**29 . 1 . 08**

**They're back on track with each other now. For everyone's info, we're looking at the nasty, dry summer; August has struck.**

**Thank you, **Clar the Pirate** and **FaylinnNorse** for helping me find **Evo422**!  
**

* * *

"_You're falling in love with me," you say languidly, lounging back in your chair. The shadows fall around you like a shroud, making it quite difficult to see your face._

_I've no doubts, though, that you're wearing that twisted sneer of yours._

Entrapment –Evo442

* * *

Roderic tried to act normal the next day, but he knew Katharine suspected something. She talked less and with more automatic replies, studying his face. She never asked him outright, for which he was grateful. He avoided her eyes, fully conscious of the fact that he was easily read, but unable to deprive himself of her presence when he was so unsure of how she would react to his proclamation. 

After a sleepless night, he had decided to tell her how he felt. He would have to do it soon – the suspense would drive him insane if he waited too long – but he dreaded her reaction. Best case scenario was that she would pretend it never happened. Worst case, she would never so much as look at him again.

He could hardly concentrate on the meeting that day, and the contumelious General Forsythe snidely commented that he should be getting more sleep so he could stay awake during the meeting.

"My apologies," he said for the fourth time that hour, flushing and returning his attention to the table.

General Gresham cleared his throat and steepled his strong fingers, giving Roderic a look that would wilt an apple tree in bloom.

"Terribly sorry," he repeated.

"As my colleague was saying," General Forsythe said smoothly, indicating General Van Meter with a twitch of his scarred hand, "the situation is dire. The Rijhaddite troops need something to boost their morale. They are feeling depreciated by the Terriotian military, and the continued raids of the Philettins on their homes is making them nervous."

"What do you propose, General Van Meter?" King Ryone asked, giving his son a raised-eyebrow look when the generals weren't watching.

Roderic squinted one eye and half-shrugged, looking embarrassed. He had always loved the council room, the one place where he felt he could prove himself. _I cannot sully my reputation now, _he chided himself.

"I believe it would be in the best interest of our army if Prince Roderic would lead our next battle," General Van Meter, a wiry looking man of few words, said simply.

"Roderic?" King Ryone said, looking over at his son.

_War?_

That had always been a possibility of course, but it had never become a reality. He didn't imagine he would actually have to kill someone, and risk being killed himself.

"Great precautions will be taken to ensure his safety," General Forsythe added.

"If it must be done, it must be done," Roderic said, locking eyes with each general and trying to tell them mentally that he would be willing to do whatever it took to save the country and its people.

They all relaxed a little, save General Gresham, who still looked in danger of killing an orchard.

"So be it," King Ryone said, nodding at Roderic proudly.

"When must I leave?" Roderic asked.

"The next battle is in one week. You must leave tomorrow morning to have time for combat training. There will be horses and men waiting at dawn. Your armor and weaponry will be transported this afternoon," General Van Meter said.

"If that is all the business for today?" King Ryone said.

"Yes, my liege," General Forsythe said.

The King stood and left the room with Roderic just behind him.

"Be safe, Roderic," his father said, by way of a measure of approval and a farewell.

"I will," Roderic said, turning the opposite way down the corridor and breaking into a jog once he was sure none of the generals had come behind him.

_Well, to look on the bright side, you will leave after telling Katharine you love her. Maybe by the time you get back she will have gotten over the shock somewhat._

It wasn't terribly encouraging. Despite the guards he would have, there was still the possibility that he would die. He shuddered at the thought.

He didn't want to think about leaving Katharine, especially with _that_ possibility hanging over his head, but it would probably be best. Now, he only had a few hours to tell her that he loved her. _Something tells me things like this shouldn't be rushed,_ he thought, almost running past the parlor door. He stopped and went in.

Katharine was by the lamp, sipping some tea and abstractly stabbing the needlepoint. He couldn't help a smile coming to his face. His heart lifted and it seemed that all the problems became a little bit more bearable. As long as he had Katharine, everything would work out.

She looked up at him and smiled too, then she seemed to pause and look at him closer. He quickly wiped the surely-silly grin from his face and strode the rest of the way in. She put the needlepoint down and stood, regarding him with a frozen mask, one that he hadn't had to bear for a long time.

"I've discovered it," she said flatly. "You love me."

He gritted his eyes closed.

_It was not supposed to happen like this._

She didn't wait for an answer. She didn't need to wait for an answer.

"How long?" she asked, not looking at him, but examining her face in the mirror.

"Excuse me?" he asked, unsure what she meant.

"How long have you loved me?" she elaborated, an edge of impatience to her voice. "How long have you been trying to see past this face and succeeding, because I thought you too foolish to try. How long?"

"You cannot measure love with time," Roderic said, words flowing easily once he started. "but with depth, or meaning, or sincerity. I love you deeply, I am over my head. Love means more than friendship, but comfortable all the same. My love is as sincere as I can make it, and unless you take off your mask fully, that is all I have to offer you."

She smiled thinly.

"You wax eloquent, my love, but your love is misplaced. You have let your mind wander to fantasies of what you imagine me to be like, underneath my mask, as you say. But me; you don't love me."

Suddenly, she stepped forward and pulled him into a kiss. Roderic almost lost his head entirely, his eyes fluttering closed in ecstasy. It was so much better than kissing Samantha. Then she was standing in front of him again with her sardonic sneer rigidly set in place.

"Enjoyed that, did you?" she spat, wiping her mouth. "That's all you want, really. Words are well and good, your perfervid actions touching, but you just lust after my beauty, like so many before you. Roderic, I have said this before, and I will repeat myself; I am not easily swayed by pretty words. Just because you are my husband, that does not mean I will submit myself to your whims. You love me this month, perhaps, but when I return no affection, you will give up on me. If I showed affection, you would tire of me in maybe two months, and then you would drift away. I am not a simpleton, and I refuse to be a pawn."

"Katharine, we have been friends for almost a year now; can you not trust me?" he said softly, staring with resolution into the smoldering depths of her dark eyes.

"A year is but a vapor in the wind of time," she quoted. "I do not trust easily. Good day."

And she left.

* * *

"Is there anything I can do?" Jody asked. "I'm a blacksmith by trade. Surely you have a position open?" 

The officer considered Jody's giant stature with a wistful look.

"You must have been top hole on the battlefield. Hamstrung though, that's rough. We filled all the blacksmith positions, too. Can't put you back as a soldier with that injury either. Fancy being a messenger? Heard through the grapevine that Crown Prince Roderic is going to be leading a battalion in the next encounter, so messages to and from him while he's camped would swamp our normal messengers."

"That sounds fantastic," Jody agreed, signing the paper the officer shoved at him.

"Here's your bag, and tie this to the bridle of the horse you use," the officer instructed, handing him a messenger bag an a strip of sky blue material. "Try Majestic; he's a big brown stallion. He's skittish in battle, a regular caitiff, but strong enough to carry you at reasonable speeds without a problem. He's been getting antsy without any action. Report to tent 9 in two days. Until then, you can bunk in tent 17."

"Thank you, officer," Jody said, saluting him as best you could.

When he entered the tent, he was hailed by a crowd of other men.

"New soldier!" they all cried at almost the same time, and rushed off their bunks to meet him.

"Messenger, not soldier," he corrected.

"Why isn't a big man like you fighting with us?" someone said suspiciously, examining his minacious figure.

"Hamstrung," he said simply.

They all winced sympathetically.

"Tough luck," was the general murmur.

"I just have a heroic limp," he said with a smile.

"Here's an empty bunk," the first speaker, a tall blond, said.

"Thanks," he said, plopping down on his bunk and letting the bag he had had packed since he got back, just in case, rest against the frame.

"So, why'd you come back, after being hamstrung?" a softspoken boy with thin curly hair asked.

"Had some problems back at home, and decided that I needed to get away for a while and think things over."

"And the army's perfect because you're always moving around," a man with freckles pointed out.

"You're not running away, though?" a middle aged man, maybe a few years older than Jody, said.

"No," Jody sighed, rubbing his forehead, "but I almost wish I was."

Most of the soldiers had dispersed by then, leaving only the softspoken curly top and the middle aged man.

"What's the problem at home?" the man asked, sitting on the foot of his bed.

"It's a very long story," Jody groaned, leaning against the bedpost.

"I have time," the boy said quietly, blue eyes peering cautiously through the curls.

Jody looked back and forth between them.

"Okay, let me give you the condensed version. My best friend was killed in the battle I was injured in, leaving a pregnant wife alone in the middle of the countryside. I married her to help support her and now she's decided she's in love with me."

"That is sticky," the middle aged man agreed with a whistle.

"Wow," the curly haired boy said.

"You didn't know what else to do, so you ran," the man said understandingly.

"Exactly."

"Do you think getting away for a while will really help?" he asked.

Jody clenched his fist.

"I don't know," he answered, the frustration sharpening his voice. "I don't know anything."

"Do you love her?" the boy asked, looking thoroughly unabashed.

"Like a friend – like a sister," Jody replied automatically, not even giving the question any thought. "Just like always. I haven't changed. She's the one – she – she's the one making everything so complicated."

"You didn't give yourself a chance to change," the man said quietly.

"I don't want to change," Jody said evenly, barely stopping himself from glaring at the man. "Are you suggesting that I should _try_ to fall in love with my dead best friend's wife?"

"He's suggesting that you stop thinking about her like that," the boy said, a touch of reproach coloring his words. "You're a bit more than her dead husband's old best friend."

"But that's who we are!" Jody said, looking at the man.

"She is a woman," the man corrected. "The past is over and cannot be changed. Right now, she is a woman who loves you."

"Just because it's over doesn't doesn't mean it's not true," Jody argued.

The boy stood up, stretching his tolerably muscled body to its highest extent. His eyes were hard, his face set in a chiseled expression of completely controlled anger.

"But you don't have to hold on to the past," he said in measured annoyance. "It's people like you that tell people like me that we can't be as good as we are. Because of people like you, I can't go anywhere near my hometown, even though I've proved to them that the one mistake I made hasn't ruined me as a human being. The past can control the present if you let it. At least _you_ have a choice, Jody. You can let go of the past and live, wherever that takes you, or you can makes yourself and her both miserable."

He dropped his eyes but stood his ground, waiting for Jody's reply.

Jody's mind whirled at the brave young man's chide. He didn't think he'd been "holding on to the past." He always clung to the memories so he wouldn't forget.

_I've been so desperate not to forget that—what? I didn't forget enough? Or I forgot what was important?_

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I had no idea."

"Your pity can't change my life, but it might change yours," the boy said, easing back onto the ground. "Don't disbelieve something just because you think it's impossible. She's a woman. They're pretty impossible."

The three of them laughed the dry laugh of someone who realizes just how true the statement was.

* * *

A couple was in a small parlor. The man was against a wall, but didn't appear cornered. The woman's head blocked Roderic's view of the man's face until she moved a little closer and he raised a clenched fist. 

"Stop it."

"I won't."

"I swear if you come near me again—"

"You'll what? Hit me? I don't think you could hit a lady if you tried."

"I've done it before and I'll do it again."

"Dear one, you can't—"

"I just might hit your pretty little face if you ever call me that again either."

"What are you afraid of?"

"Does everyone have to be afraid of something to turn you down? Do you really think you're that powerful? I'm not afraid; it's just--"

She took a step toward him and fingered his collar. Johnathon apparently couldn't bring himself to hit her, though he appeared as though he dearly wanted to.

"Just what?" she said softly, spidering her thin fingers up his neck to caress his cheek.

"Stop it," he said again, though with weakened resolve.

She draped her arms about his neck and nuzzled his jawbone.

"Stop pretending, Johnathon. You know you like this."

He swallowed, both his fists clenched. She traced his cheekbones with her index fingers, smoothly lowering his face so it was pointing directly at her.

"Katharine—"

She pressed her mouth to his viciously, but only for a moment before Johnathon jerked his face away and slammed his readied fist into her ribcage.

She fell back with a cry of pain and Roderic startled awake.

* * *

Fury, undeviating and pure fury coursed through him as he wrenched himself out of the chair and through the parlor doors, where he had fallen asleep. He wasn't sure who he was more mad at; Katharine for lowering herself to that level, or Johnathon for first allowing her and then_hitting_ her. 

_Hitting_his_wife_.

_In the name of peace, _he growled to himself. _In the name of all that is right. Johnathon! _Johnathon!

_Johnathon._

Roderic knew exactly where they were. They were in the room Johnathon met him in to read the letters. The closer he got, the more anger seeped out and left him feeling hollowed and betrayed. By the time he actually reached the room, he had decided to continue on to the kitchens and see about getting a sandwich – the general's meeting had circumvented lunch – and leaving them. Only remembering Katharine's pain stilled him at the door. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Johnathon now had Katharine against the wall and they were kissing with wild abandon. Neither of them looked at him immediately, and Roderic had to bite his tongue to keep himself from crying out. It was an almost physical pain, to see his best friend and the woman he loved – like that. Katharine opened her eyes and saw Roderic standing there, his face drawn in unimaginable heartache. She didn't say anything, but pushed Johnathon away, staring at Roderic.

Strangely, Roderic noticed, her face was not haughty or triumphant. It took him a moment to place the expression – he had never seen it on her face before: guilt. He then saw Johnathon, looking wide eyed and ashamed; like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar.

Tears burned in Roderic's eyes.

"Johnathon," he said with difficulty.

"Roderic... I—" but Johnathon trailed off. There really was nothing to say.

Roderic looked back at Katharine; a wary, waiting look in her eyes.

"We are all the same, are we not?" he whispered, then left quickly before the tear could trail down his cheek.

He plodded down the hall, hardly seeing where he was going, until he found a vacated room. It had only an empty fireplace and an old rocking chair, but he didn't care. He slumped into the rocking chair and let the tears come.

He cried for Johnathon, and whatever he had become. He cried for Katharine, and her inability to understand. He cried for his own heart, broken and smashed by rejection and betrayal. The tears kept coming, stifling any other emotion and engulfing him in total aching emptiness. He felt like he was crying out his soul with every passing moment, but he couldn't stop.

He didn't notice the figure at the door who paused and watched him, hovering in the doorframe, before slipping away. One tiny splash of water was the only proof, but it went unnoticed.

* * *

**Final word count: 2958**

**A semi-cliffhanger that, unfortunately for you, will probably not be resolved for some time. Who was at the door? Anyone's game. Guess away! I'll consider a prize for correct guessers.**

Bingo7**: I like your quote too. One of my favorite from that story, and that's saying a lot. Everything does happen to Rod, doesn't it? Poor guy. He needs a hug. Jody deserves a pounding, definitely. **

Ellsbeta**: Johnathon was weird, wasn't he? Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. Antsy Roderic is almost too fun to write to be allowed. Too bad he was quickly taken over by sad Roderic. --weepy face-- Everyone hates Jody now, heh heh. At least you understand him. --wipes brow-- Oh! Thanks for pointing that out. You get a shout-out!**

Celestial Seraphim**: Thanks, I liked the Celeste scene myself. The last few sentences? I really like them! I think they make the scene. Hum. Sorry for the confusion about Roddy, but... nothing happens. There's not major life events that I needed to write about, so I couldn't really make is seem like more time had passed other than telling you time had passed. If I wanted to make this a NOVEL, I might just draw it out because I can. As it is... I'm running over my original quota of 25 chapters or less. This was SUPPOSED to be a short story. And I couldn't really bring in romantic thoughts earlier because he didn't really have them. He didn't see her like that, really, until recently.**

FaylinnNorse**That is a fun line, and very Roddy. Katharine? Admit anything? Heh. You are the first person to suggest that something's up with Johnathon and Samantha. We shall see, I suppose. And you're exactly right about Jody. He does need a confidence boost, and he does need to realize that he's not replacing Lee. Abrupt and rude, nicely put. The rude bit made me giggle; everyone else was calling him nastier names, and you just primly say that he is 'rude'. Ha!**

Crayola Color Sky**: Exciting is one way to describe it. Yeah, the thing with Jody is he never considered her as anything more than Lee's wife, or Lee's girlfriend before that, as you see in this chapter. Funny guy, that's for sure. Yes, they are going to coincide, very soon.**

CaptainFantastic**: Yes, you may have that instead. Enjoy. Oh good! That was exactly how I wanted this chapter to appear. --relief!-- Jody has jumped into a lot of Bad Graces corners with that one hot-tempered move. Poor guy. Sometimes, he just doesn't think. Lee was awesome. Really awesome. --sigh-- Johnathon still isn't in the corner? What about after this chapter? Heh. Originally, I had Katharine saying that to Johnathon in this scene, but then I decided "Hum, Billi, why is it that you have a perfect character?" And Cadmus leaped into the air like a stuck pig and switched things around. I think it has a lot more potency, and a lot more "Wait... what's up with him?" coming from Johnathon. Good job, Caddy. --high five--**

Clar the Pirate**: Dear sweet stupid idiot. Ha. That's Jody to a T at the moment. Good guess! Keep watching to find out how you did. Another guess for the Johnathon/Samantha committee. There was a lot of italics last chapter... he was thinking too much. --eye roll at him-- Jody's got too much DO IT and Roddy's got too much HOLD ON. Men. Aha, I had forgotten about that bit of contraction. --smacks self-- You are right, of course, but he does deviate once more. Not as obviously, but more critically (in my opinion). Someone finally commented on the chapter title! I was beginning to feel old. Though I haven't listened to it for 6 hours straight, I do like Simon and Garfunkel a **_**lot.**_

Mazkeraide**: Oh good. **Lobuck** suggested I do that, and it sorta took flight. He's not being supportive at all... now we know what's up with him. Dumb guy. Too bad there wasn't much room for awkward in this chapter. --sigh of regret-- I love awkward. Yeah, analyzing personality types does seem random, but it is loads of fun. I could see them doing it, too. Jody does need to get over himself, nicely put.**

daring2dream**: Yup, he just kinda up and went. He wasn't thinking straight, obviously. Kat's growing on you? Well, she was. Is she still growing on you now? --dry laugh-- Third person to suggest Johnathon/Samantha.**

Ilovecookies15**: Aww, I didn't mean to make you cry. Or, almost cry. Or, whatever. --hands tissue-- Thanks for the support, I really am trying to make it typical, but not typical at the same time. Glad that I'm doing it right. --wipes brow-- Thanks for the review!**

**Don't forget to speculate the ending. There is a prize! And the poll is still open. If you haven't voted yet, please do!**

**And for reviewing this chapter, howabout chocolate? Ghirardelli © would be good.**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Mazkeraide**, for pointing out my typos!  
**


	26. Just Another Path

**6 . 2 . 08**

**Cliffhangers and danger every way you turn! Ah! --hides--**

**On a note of warning, I personally am disgruntled with this chapter. I don't feel like I did anything right at the beginning. The fact that I'm currently sick may be adding to that, but let me know if it seems out of place and, of course, suggestions are welcome.**

* * *

"_I sighed and buried my face in my hands, prepared to choke back tears. They didn't come. After a moment, I realized that I couldn't cry, even if I wanted to. In my attempts to be brave, I'd hardened myself beyond the point of crying. I almost wished that I could cry, just so I could fight it. I was good at fighting, but now there was nothing to fight. It was just me, and I was miserable. It was like the world was closing in around me, squeezing out my breath, slowly killing me. Rather darkly poetic, I suppose."_

Across the World –FaylinnNorse

* * *

Roderic made it safely to the battlefield after three days of hard riding. He tried to forget what had happened by throwing himself into training, but in every spare moment his heart throbbed, reminding him. Anger came in spurts, until he brought himself to the point where he could forgive them. He knew Katharine would never apologize, but Johnathon – well, he didn't know his side of the story. He also knew his friend (or he thought he did) and thought it likely that he would apologize when he returned. It was easier to forgive him, and he almost fell into the trap of blaming everything on Katharine. She was easy to blame. She didn't care. 

But he knew she couldn't be totally responsible. And so, he let go of the anger and concentrated on healing his heart. Every day was a new struggle; he still loved Katharine, which was what hurt most. It would be easier if that had severed the connection he felt with her, but at the same time, he clung to it. If the pain was still there, he knew he hadn't hardened himself too much yet.

That is where he found himself the night before the battle, hating and nursing the dull, throbbing pain he had shoved to the back of his mind. Reluctant to sleep, Roderic tried to keep his eyes open. His dreams since he had arrived at the battlefront had been plagued with visions of the enemy's camps. Though useful in predicting where they were, it was sometimes disheartening to realize the jolly men that he saw, talking and practicing their weaponry, were the men he would be killing in battle. Sleep, however, was too strong to avoid. It overcame him after a few minutes of futile struggle, and he slipped into a dream at once.

He saw a lavish room, which he recognized with a jolt. It was his own bedroom. Katharine was sleeping; her upturned face seemed slightly drawn and her arms were flung on either side of her body. She had not been sleeping well. The room was dark and silent, and Roderic just gazed at the dreamlike recreation of his wife, forgetting all else. Seeing her again made him want to ride home immediately. He didn't realize how much he missed the gentle curve of her chin, the small mark above her left eye, and that awful smile she always flashed at him whenever he was trying to be serious. Sardonic and off-putting though it was, he loved it as dearly as the rest of her.

A soft click came from out of sight: the click of the door. A shadowy figure came into view, face hooded, and reached out to touch Katharine's arm. She awoke suddenly, and as her eyes focused, she screamed. Darkness dropped like a heavy curtain over the dream and Katharine's cry was cut short.

Roderic awoke in a cold sweat, yelling for Katharine.

* * *

Jody rode hard toward the cottage. He had been sent to deliver a message to Lord O'Grady outside of Albertte, and while he was waiting for a reply, he decided to tell Celeste what was going on. She would know by now what he had done, but he also knew she wouldn't stop being mad at him until she yelled at him for it. The short window of time would be ideal for her fury, and he doubted they would have time for her to try and convince him of her love. As he mounted the hill, the breath was knocked out of him. 

The cottage had been burnt to the ground.

He kicked the stallion into a gallop and raced toward the cold remains, his heart in his throat.

"Jody!" Tobias called, appearing in the midst of the rubble and tripping over charred logs to meet him. "Oh, Jody," he said, stopping in front of the big man as he dismounted.

Jody could now see William and others from both towns sifting through the bits and pieces of what had been their home.

"It was a raid last night," Tobias said. "They tried to carry it over to Albertte but we chased them out and rode to see Celeste immediately. The cottage was already finished, Jody, there was nothing we could do. The barn was razed as well, but we found the horses in the fields nearby."

"And Celeste?" Jody said, looking at the man desperately.

"We couldn't find her or Mara Leigh, but we can't find their bodies either. They might have escaped."

"Escaped to where?" Jody said sharply, gesturing at the farmland and fields, just about to be harvested.

"That's why we stayed, in case they came back," Tobias said smoothly.

Jody sat down heavily on the dry earth. A few days ago, he wasn't giving the girls a second thought. They were complicated, and Celeste was unreasonable and wrong, so he left them. Now that he had lost control of the separation, he ached to see Celeste again. The only thing he wanted to do was hug them both tightly and twirl around, apologizing for his stupidity. He had taken their presence for granted, as something he could have when he wanted it, but ignore when it was overbearing.

He suddenly realized that he could not live without them. Celeste, who had started as a tolerable girl Lee liked, was now the light of his life, and her soothing words the fuel that kept him going when he wasn't relying on his own stubbornness. The curly-haired boy was partly right, holding onto the past was ruining the present, but his megalomania had blinded him even more than that. His need to be in control had kept him from valuing Mara Leigh and Celeste as equal people, had kept him from seeing her as the wonderful, captivating, beautiful, perfect—

_I am not. Oh golly. Not after that—oh by the blaze and hammer! I am_not_in love with her!_

"Thank you, Tobias. Please keep searching," he said jerkily, getting to his feet and clasping the man's hand. "I'll try to come by again as soon as I can. If no one is here, I'll come to your house. Please keep her there and keep her safe. If she is—" he swallowed "—dying, or something, tell her... Tell her I—"

He stopped, Tobias waited patiently for his request.

"Nevermind," he finally said. He couldn't bring himself to say the traitorous words. "Thank you again. Find her. Please find them."

He swung himself onto the horse's back and pounded away.

* * *

Roderic was positive that if his head had not been propped up on his hands, it would have dropped onto the table several times that long morning. 

After his awakening in the middle of the night, he had tried without success to convince General Van Meter that something had gone terribly wrong at the palace. The stoic man was aggravated at being interrupted from his sleep and told Roderic that if he did not stop blathering and go to bed, that he would personally render him unconscious.

Roderic tried to sleep, and find out what had happened, but his short, troubled dreams were filled with the Philettin army again. He woke at dawn to the sound of a whispered conversation outside his tent.

"...sleeping! Can't it wait?"

"No!" Roderic had yelled, pulling his blanket around him and throwing the door open.

One sweaty boy, hardly large enough to ride a horse, was being menaced by his guard, but Roderic had set that aright at once and heard the boy's news.

The hours since then had dragged, the messenger boy's original words bouncing around his brain as he was thrust into meeting after meeting with messengers and representatives.

"_Princess Katharine was murdered last night by a member of a band of rebels. I am sorry for your loss."_

Preparation continued for the battle that afternoon, naturally, but Roderic would be whisked away directly afterwards.

"You're going to marry her cousin, Meriwether Downs, in Deniel next month," he was told by a faceless messenger.

"You'll meet with the Terriotian Council at the end of next week to solidify the treaty once more," said another.

"Hold to the original treaty," whispered a messenger from his father. "Don't agree to anything until I'm there."

"Don't lose your focus in battle. Concentrate on the issue at hand," advised General Forsythe.

"Terriot wants more initial grain to make up for the low crop. Keep that in mind," said a representative from southern Terriot.

"Meriwether is a wonderful girl, you'll love her," assured King Gollath's messenger.

"They are holding back their best trainers. Demand them while they are reeling from the news," suggested a messenger from Lord Devonshire.

By the time that battle started, Roderic could hardly tell one piece of advice from another and was following orders mechanically.

Someone should have told him not to go into battle like that.

Unfortunately, no one noticed, except someone who wasn't supposed to do anything about it.

* * *

Jody reached the camp minutes before the army marched to battle. He was quickly informed of the terrible news; Princess Katharine had been murdered. Rumors were sweeping around like wildfire as to who did it. People mostly said rebels, but rebels for what? What were they trying to prove? Were they opposed to Terriotian royalty ruling Rijhad? 

The only thing this meant for Jody was more messages to be delivered all around the country.

He was mounting a different horse and trying to decide which person to go to first when he caught sight of the army marching to battle just in front of him. Terriotians and Rijhadites were side by side in ranks, led by a single figure on horseback, flanked by several guards. The sight was impressive, much more impressive than the Philettins, whom he could descry in the distance.

The figure, whom he assumed was Prince Roderic, was swaying on the horse. Jody frowned. _Has the idiot been drinking? _he wondered in disgust. He then remembered Katharine and his frown lightened. People had said that they loved each other dearly; of course he was upset.

_But he shouldn't go into battle like that! He'll be killed!_

It was then that he noticed the group of cavalry acting strangely near the back. He squinted for a better view, and they broke ranks, flying up to the front of the army with swords drawn. The surprised soldiers scattered out of the way, leaving the path to Roderic wide open, but the weaving man didn't notice.

_Oh, no you don't!_

Jody galloped at full speed, his messenger's stallion easily outstripping the cavalry's endurance horses. He reached him just before they did and wrenched the surprised prince's sword out of his sheath, deflecting the first blade with sheer might.

"Get out of here!" Jody shouted, barely blocking another sword.

He knew nothing about fighting from horseback, and his strength was the only thing that was saving him and the prince. The guards leapt on the insurgents, and the Philettin army rushed them, leaving the unarmed Prince trapped between the two armies.

_Golly, he's gonna die. Golly, I'm gonna die,_ Jody thought, plunging the marvelously crafted blade into someone's gut and wincing.

He hated killing people. The alternative was not better, however, so he kept one eye on the prince and the other on the battle, trying to block in the Prince along with the other guards. One of them fell under a heavy onslaught from the Philettin army. Jody jumped off the horse and grabbed the sword before a Philettin did, handing the Prince's back to him.

"Golly, fight then!" he shouted, mounting and earning a slice down his arm. "Don't just sit there!"

The Prince did fight by Jody's side, expertly wielding his sword and cutting down the opposition. Whatever funk had been over him was hampering his agility, but he was maintaining an average advantage from horseback over the footsoldiers.

When the arrows started flying, Jody seriously regretted having no armor. Only a fallen Terriotian's sturdy shield kept him from becoming a pincushion as he continued to fight alongside the royal guard. From what he could tell, the surprise infiltration had shaken the soldiers badly enough that the fight wasn't as easy as they had hoped.

The death of the foreign Princess had put the Terriotians off their game, and the near-death of their own beloved Prince hit too close to home for the Rijhadite soldiers. The battle was short lived, though intense, and soon they were charging the Philettin camp to eradicate whatever resistance remained. Jody stayed back and helped carry the wounded to the makeshift hospital, letters forgotten.

* * *

**Final word count: 2112**

**And they intersect! Tada! Opinions please! How was the news? Roderic's reaction? How was the battle scene this time around? Gracefully sidestepping the gore and blood? I don't like the ending. Can you guys think of a better place to stop? **

CaptainFantastic**: It had so many implications. So many. --chuckle-- Jody is free, yay! And too true, Johnathon CANNOT be in the Corner with Katharine. --glare at him-- YES! I love that line, too! I couldn't help but put it in, what with his previous description, and it certainly made me chuckle. I'm glad it drew someone else's attention too. --draws sword-- Writer's Block is no match for my steel! Ho! Take that! --Writer's Block sets off timer for dynamite and runs away-- Oh dear.**

Celestial Seraphim**: What? It's supposed to be random. That's kinda the whole point. Hint at what earlier on? --scratches head--**

FaylinnNorse**: Heh, I'll take 'almost almost'! He appreciates the hug as long as, he says, it's assuredly platonic, because he is absolutely done being confused by women with ulterior motives. Okay, maybe he didn't say just that, but I'm sure he feels that way. --nudges the despondent character-- Yeah, he did hit her, but Katharine got up and went at him again, and he lost it. Emotionally confused? Nailed it. Interesting theory about Johnathon. I like that line too! It could mean so many different things... Nah, the boy's not really of significance. They just got to talking. You'll notice they didn't even get any names? I love guys. They're so laid back sometimes, they forego formalities and polite introduction. --eye roll-- . I found her! Thanks!**

Bingo7**: --hands you an almost tissue for your almost tears-- You and Faylinn both hugged him; he probably feels a bit better now. I figure he could especially use some womanly comfort after this recent turn of events. You hit the nail on the head. Good deduction!**

Ellsbeta**: Wasn't it terrible how Katharine announced his love for her? She was such a brat sometimes. I'm glad you didn't see Johnathon/Katharine coming; it was supposed to be sudden and unexpected. That's why it hurt Rod so badly. --sniffle-- Imagine how Johnathon feels **_**now.**_

Mazkeraide**: Sorry, sorry, and sorry. They're corrected and your shout-out is firmly in place. --bow of apology-- Women are ridiculous sometimes. The random kid is just a random kid. Who do you think I am, someone who ties every irrelevant piece of information into the plotline? --silence-- Oh. Strike that from the record. Good speculation. It's a terribly sad song, but creepily relevant to the chapter at hand. I find that even more impressive, because I actually hadn't listened to that song before, a friend just suggested the title and I used it without listening to the song first. Weird.**

Crayola Color Sky**: Poor guy, indeed, and even more so now. I'm such a terrible Supreme Power. --hangs head--**

Clar the Pirate**Hopping madness at Katharine and later garnering of understanding is both understandable and commendable, not necessarily in that order. Oh ho, power craving; good speculation! Thanks for the **Evo422** bit. I liked **_**Stockholm**_** better too. --sad face-- Ack, you're right about the men. Sometimes having a naturally cliché mind is a problem. Scratch that. Most of the time it's a problem. Cadmus is sketching side-by-side with Rabbit Man, and I should have a revised version of that out soon. --face in hands-- I'm flattered that you think it's the first unrealistic thing in the story, because it most definitely isn't. --warm-fuzzy induced smile-- I really liked the marching song, too. It's rather a fun tune to jauntily sing anytime, anyway, and one of my favorite ditties that I've penned. And the knocking of small children was too amusing a mental picture to give up. I had to lighten the awkward mood a little. Good guesses!**

ElvishKiwi(in disguise)**: I can't berate you for reading and not reviewing; I do that far more often then can be readily excusable. AND, you gave me a nice long review, so I really can't complain. It would be like trying to say "I hate the food!" with my mouth full. Stupid, **_**and**_** rude. Hum, analogies. Moving on. Wait, you print it out and read it to your whole family?! --Cadmus preens at the attention-- How many people are in your family that listen/read this? I'm getting nervous. Oh, give my sympathies to your brother and let him know I think it's disgustingly mushy too. **Lobuck** will be returning soon (finally) and hers is definitely full of blood and action and intrigue and all the stuff that makes a story way better than romance. He should read THAT. If he actually stayed to listen to you say all of that, and didn't make a face at me, he is officially one of the coolest brother on the planet and you should keep him. If he didn't, well, he's normal, anyway. Yeh, the soldiers' reaction was overdone; my mind got jammed into cliché mode and Cadmus forgot to switch gears. I'll let you know when I rewrite that. Thanks for pointing it out. Good guess for Johnathon being at the door; you're the first one to consider him an option. Good reasoning for it, too. Ah, yes. "Camels don't like straw" was a prod at the saying "The straw that broke the camel's back." And since you promised to prove your ability to do better after I update, I'm really expecting a review from you now! (And your delightful Mum, as well.)**

daring2dream**: Good observations, with your guesses as to who would be at the door, and good question about Katty/Johnathon. I can't answer, though. You'll find out soon enough. Good specualtion about her feelings, too. Good job. Jody's part was interesting to write; it's what I've been thinking all along, and I FINALLY got to put it into words and into a scene. --jump of joy--**

Ilovecookies15**: Thanks for reviewing! You'll find out who it was eventually!**

**If you haven't voted in the poll yet, please do so! The current ****leader of the favorite character poll was Katharine, so I'm a bit worried...**

**Am I going to have to go into the WPP to escape angry people? --runs!-- I think I'm going to pull the anti-angry-reviewer-shields that saved me in Nasap out of storage just to be on the safe side. **

**On a slight less murderous note, I'm planning a surprise birthday party for Roderic to make up for this sudden disaster. Any volunteers to bring refreshments or presents? Party time; same time next week. RSVP (review, s'il vous pla****î****t --grin--) before then. Consider your action before you participate; your personality is subject to my misguided pencil.**

**Reviewers, with or without party attendance, will get a piece of his birthday cake!**

**Thank you, **Celestial Seraphim**, for helping me see what was right in front of me. And thank you, **Crayola Color Sky**, for pointing out my typo.**


	27. When You're Gone

**14 . 2 . 08**

**Sorry for the delay – I couldn't get the whole party written in time. Happy Valentine's Day!**

* * *

_"What if it was just another fairy tale?_

_A fairy tale that killed real people."_

Forever Alive –Mordred

* * *

Roderic was hardly aware when the giant left him as he thundered over the plain. In fact, he realized later, he was still hardly aware of anything except the pounding of the horse's hooves and the delighted bellowing of some war cry he could not distinguish. Everything else was lost to him. He couldn't remember how to ride a horse, use a sword, or even open his mouth. His entire being was in a fog that he was trying only halfheartedly to dispel. 

He was grateful somewhere in his mind that his horse was trained well. It stopped when the others did and kept pace beside them.

"You have been defeated!" cried a guard beside him. "Stand in the middle of your camp without your weapons and you will not be killed!"

The army fanned out over the grubby encampment, killing those who resisted and shepherding the compliant into the middle of the camp.

"We're Rijhadites! Please don't harm us!"

The female voice was so strange after the hour of shouting and roaring that Roderic actually heard it and jerked his horse in its direction. A woman was standing in the doorway of a tent, looking terrified as the soldiers came toward her with their swords drawn.

"Hold your weapons!" Roderic shouted, and the soldiers stopped instantly, bowing to Roderic as he rode up to the woman and dismounted.

"You are Rijhadite?" he asked.

"Yes, I am, and so are they," she said, looking slightly more bold now that she was not being menaced with swords. She gestured inside the tent where three other women were standing, wide eyed, and holding a small child. "We were taken from our homes if we agreed to be healers for them."

The lighter, freckled skin of the women also pleaded their case. Philettins were generally golden-toned with light colored eyes, though the warring country often press ganged citizens of other countries. _Not women._

"Welcome home, then," he said with an attempt at a smile. "We will restore you to your families at once."

The women all bowed and wrung his hand with wide smiles, thanking him as they were escorted back to the camp by a small contingent of soldiers.

"Prince Roderic?"

Roderic paused as he was mounting his horse. The woman whose voice he had originally heard stood next to him with the child on her hip. She looked vaguely familiar.

"Yes, milady?"

"Have you seen my husband? He's a great tall man, you couldn't miss him, and he's a blacksmith. He came off to war a few days ago, but I didn't know if it was this encampment or another..."

Her bright green eyes regarded him hopefully. His heart twinged and his hands shook.

"Yes, I believe he saved my life. Come with me; we will find him."

He helped her mount his horse then slid on in front of her with the child on his lap and directed the horse for the camp. The child smiled up at him and laughed delightedly.

"Daddy, daddy!" she squealed, banging her hands on his knees.

He tried another smile, succeeding less.

"We are getting there, small one."

She just laughed and bounced dangerously on his lap, then held onto fistfuls of the horse's mane.

* * *

"No really, I haven't the faintest clue of what to do. I can carry people, but not sew them up." 

"I'm not asking you to sew them up, Master Flannlin."

"I'm not cutting their limbs off either!" he cried, turning pale at the large saw in the physician's hands.

"Jody!"

"Daddy!"

The shrieks from the entrance to the tent made him swivel around so quickly that he almost tripped over someone carrying a bucket of steaming water and rags.

"Watch out, big guy!"

"Sorry!" he called after the man, then shot away from the physician and out the door, where Celeste and Mara Leigh stood.

Without a word, he pulled them both up into his arms and spun around in the open space, making Mara Leigh scream her happiness to the entire camp. He could feel a part of him relax, knowing that they were safe and in his arms. Now that he had them, he couldn't imagine letting them go again. He wanted to stay in the moment forever, but Celeste's shallow breathing reminded him that he was probably suffocating her.

"Sorry," he said, setting them down quickly.

"Don't be," she said, her smile too wide for her face.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" Mara Leigh said, bouncing up and down in Celeste's arms.

She leaned over and reached for Jody. To his own surprise, he took her and hugged her gently, then settled her on the ground. She clung to his filthy boots happily for balance.

"Celeste, I'm so glad you're safe," he said breathlessly. "What happened to you? Why are you here?"

"Yes, about that," she said, planting her hands on her hips, "how could you just leave like that? You had me worried _sick!_And if it wasn't for the Philettins' needing some more medical staff, we would have been dead!"

"I'm sorry," he said, taking her hands. "I can't tell you how sorry I am. I was stupid."

"Yes you were," she agreed, glaring at him. "But I still love you."

He was saved from any sort of reply when Prince Roderic walked up with a man at his side, a thin smile held in place atop the glazed shock that refused to be repressed.

"I apologize for this horrendous intrusion," he said quietly, walking up to the pair.

_His voice sounds like he's in a funeral already_, he thought, then winced at his mental choice of words. The man stood a respectful distance away, but never looked away from the Prince.

"Your majesty," Jody said, bowing as best he knew how. "How may I be of service to you?"

Celeste followed suit with a deep curtsy, despite her ragged attire. Mara Leigh blew a raspberry and hugged Jody's boot.

"I would like to talk to you regarding the service you did to me earlier today," The Prince said automatically, looking like he was having trouble keeping his focus."You saved my life, and you were not even a soldier, so I am told. A messenger."

"I am, your majesty," Jody affirmed.

He saw Celeste studying the Prince's face out of the corner of his eye.

"What can I do to thank you?" the Prince asked.

"Nothing, your majesty," Jody said immediately. "It was an honor to serve my country."

"There actually is one thing," Celeste interjected. Jody sent her a look. "Our house was burned down by a Philettin raid."

"I will arrange for a new one to be built," the man said instantly. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"No, that will be more than enough," Jody said. "More than enough."

"Very well," Prince Roderic said, looking strained and pale. "I will put you in touch with someone who will help you work out the finer details."

He bowed deeply to Jody, a smooth, effortless gesture of preference, then straightened.

"Again, I thank you for your service. You will not be forgotten. I will ensure your wife and child a safe escort to your home town. Have you a place to stay, milady?"

"Our friends will be happy to have us," Celeste said with a grateful smile.

Prince Roderic made another sort of half bow and left them. The man, obviously his servant, called for someone else and pointed at the two of them, and they were joined instants later by a man of average build and deeply freckled skin.

"I'm to drive you home, milady," he said courteously, bowing roughly.

"They'll be safe?" Jody asked, and his tone must have been abnormal, because the man took a step back and folded his hands nervously. "Yes, sir, they will be safe indeed."

He drew breath to say goodbye, when someone tugged on his shirt bottom. A boy was breathing heavily.

"General Gresham isn't happy that your letters weren't delivered. You have a new assignment, go see him!" he relayed all in one breath.

If it had been any other General, Jody might have delayed, but remembering the withering glares he had seen other men fail under, he was in no hurry to get further on his bad side. He turned back to Celeste and Mara Leigh, every detail of them coming into sharp relief; Celeste's tangled long hair, unbound, Mara Leigh's chubby dimpled cheeks, her tiny fingers wrapped around Celeste's thumb, their torn clothing, the expression on Celeste's face.

"I have to go, you have to go," he said quickly, pulling them into a hug.

Celeste gripped him back, harder than normal and then let go. He could see tears in her eyes before she ducked her head.

"Be safe," she said.

"You too," he replied, running off to General Gresham's tent with the scene replaying itself in his mind.

* * *

A girl in stately dress was sitting on a wooden chair next to a window. She was carefully completing a sampler, but her mind seemed to be elsewhere. Roderic noticed, with a bit of confusion, her obvious wealth. Most of the people he dreamed about were poor. She showed no signs of moving, and even in sleep Roderic was starting to wonder, until someone came running in. 

The girl put down the sampler quickly and jumped to her feet to meet the boy with an embrace.

"Andrew!" she cried, wrapping her arms around him and beginning to sob. "I can't do this, Andrew," she said, voice muffled by tears and his shirt.

"I know, Mer, I know," he said comfortingly, rubbing her back. "But you have to."

"I don't! I can't!"

"There's no other way, you know that."

"Oh why couldn't we have married already like you wanted to," she said bitterly.

"Because you're still young. Sixteen is not exactly proper quite yet," he reminded her, rubbing the gold and sapphire ring on her left hand. "I thought being engaged would be enough for now."

"Apparently not," she said, squeezing him tighter. "How can I marry someone else, after dreaming of being with you for so long? And ugh, did you know he's twenty-nine? He's terribly old, Andrew. Do you think they – oh heavens, what if they... you know. Ugh! I can't. I absolutely can_not."_

"It's not your choice," he said, in a voice that said how very much he wished it was _his_ choice. "And it will only be a treaty. Remember that. You're not obligated to do anything but look pretty on his arm."

* * *

Roderic woke up with the girl's face still clear in his mind. He knew immediately that "Mer" had to be Princess Meriwether. _She is sixteen? Why did no one inform me of this? As if this type of marriage was not uncomfortable enough for the second time. _

He rubbed his face and sat up, looking out the carriage window at the approaching castle. He had been informed that Princess Meriwether would be coming directly after the council meeting at the end of next week. He dreaded meeting her more now than he had before his dream.

With a start he realized just how much she looked like Katharine. They shared the same shade of skin, naturally, being from Terriot, but there was something else as well that he couldn't quite place. They acted nothing alike. Meriwether was a sweet, naïve, and lovable teen, whereas Katharine had been a elusive, mysterious, harsh woman. What was it that he recognized?

"Sir, we have arrived," the bored coachman droned, stepping down from his seat and opening Roderic's door.

"Thank you," he said idly, resisting the urge to hop to the ground. That was something he might have done if Katharine was there, to see the exasperated look in her eye before she covered it up.

He smiled in spite of himself.

They walked up to the castle together, Prince and servants, and his side felt strangely empty. There had been someone to fill it for months, and he wasn't sure a frightened, flighty girl like the Princess could quite fill it up again. He was so preoccupied that he almost ran into Johnathon, who looked haggard and red-eyed.

"Johnathon," Roderic said flatly, and Johnathon winced. "Just – just – meet me in my parlor in an hour."

Johnathon bobbed his head and left so quickly he almost vanished. Roderic pushed hair off his forehead and let out a breath. Another thing he had to resolve. Maybe Johnathon could have some clues.

* * *

After Jody had made sure that Celeste and Mara Leigh were on their way safely back home, he finally started off to deliver the messages. He decided to check in with the General first, and be sure that someone else hadn't already done it. 

"Yes, once I heard of your heroics, I sent other messengers off right away," the General informed him, with some annoyance, handing him a sealed envelope. "I now need this to be delivered to the town of Allearsi. Ask for the governor and tell him General Gresham sent you."

"Yes, sir," Jody said, saluting and tucking the envelope into his bag.

He then went back outside and secured the blue cloth to the bridle of Majestic, easily his favorite horse so far.

"We're off to the famed palace, what do you think?" he asked quietly, ruffling the stallion's mane and pulling himself onto the horse.

The stallion neighed impatiently and Jody chuckled.

"Let's go, then, if you're so fired up about it."

So they did go. It took two days to reach the bustling city that had sprung up around the new palace. It was a city of equality, and a rising trade city for the two countries it spread over. Terriotians and Rijhaddites alike spread their wares and bargained with each other to get well priced items prized in both countries. Several Lords and Ladies bought houses there, to be at the center of the rumors and political action. The palace was a mile away, set in the woods, but the town was threatening to seep closer every day. Only the raised eyebrow whispers of "the couple wanting privacy" had kept them away thus far.

Jody rode slowly through the center of town, avoiding the bustle of market people and well-dressed servants. He got several confused and awestruck looks, and it took him halfway to the centrum to realize that he was probably frightening, almost seven feet tall and on a monstrous horse. He chuckled as he approached the Fountain of Peace, where several musicians were vying for the pennies of the passers-by. One caught his eye specifically – he was singing dejectedly and strumming a guitar-like instrument, seeming not at all interested in the lack of money in his haphazardly tossed hat.

"_A terrible thing has happened,_

_A terrible thing indeed,_

_Yet no one knows the secret,_

_Of who did the horrible deed,_

_No one wants to listen,_

_To impossible news at best,_

_No one seems to think,_

_That she mightn't be laid to rest."_

"Joseph?!" Jody cried incredulously, guiding his way through the throng.

Joseph looked up, face a comical melancholy.

"_My friend of old,_

_Whom none has told,_

_The vicious truth,_

_Alack, forsooth,_

_Comes always to me_

_Though no one else sees!"_

"Joseph, you don't have to sing all the time, really," Jody said, laughing. "Stay right there; I need to deliver a message and I'll be right back."

Joseph raised his hand, ceasing the strumming momentarily.

"_I'll sing and wait for_

_The one who came for_

_A reason not _

_Unlike my own."_

Jody was puzzled by the boy's strange mannerisms, but quickly delivered his message to the governor and returned to the fountain.

Joseph was gone, but his hat with the paltry sum of coins was still there.

* * *

**Final word count: 2638**

**Joseph is back! Opinions? And Johnathon? Celeste is alright! And Mara Leigh – as cute as ever.**

Celestial Seraphim**: --wince-- That was a lot of con/crit and not very much happiness. As for foreshadowing; I hate it. Call me a heretic, stupid, whatever you wish, but I am being perfectly serious. I don't like being able to guess what's going to happen. And, well, I don't know, I just don't like it. I can't remember ever really using it. And I really was going for a more realistic setting in this story, but I guess that didn't come across either, so now I just kinda feel like throwing in the towel, taking two aspirin, and going to bed for a long time. --stops attempting a weak smile--**

CaptainFantastic**: A psych book. Very good. --pens your name onto the roster-- Killing off characters on a whim? This was hardly on a whim. Poetically perfect and utterly unfair; good way to word that. --smile-- My****cardboard**** characters? Oh! Gasping is good! And THIS part; "**_This corner was once graced by that slightly annoying and incredibly faceted princess who was too stupid and arrogant to fall in love with Roderic_ Perfect. I'm all for honoring the dead.**" HA! I would have laughed aloud had I not been sick and most laughter came in the form of a weak smile at that point. That brightened my very bleak day. Go ahead and take the credit; it is your fault. But that means I'm also blaming you for any skewed ideas or author's notes, because I was sick and probably not quite in my right mind.**

FaylinnNorse**: Oh, that was a lot of exclamation points. Are you okay? I think you need a party almost as much as Roddy needs one. The passive effect was intentional; Roddy is in shock so we should be too. I agree, it would be much more moving the other way, but I wanted to stress how quickly and blurry-ly things were moving for him, jumbling the order of events when we're reading it and stuff like that. Oh good, I liked the dream too; I wrote that part a while ago, when I was randomly inspired. It seemed a Roderic-ish thing to do to notice the little things. Was this happier? --adds you to the roster, a little belated-- Oh, brownies and punch; fantastic.**

Tami**: Hello again! Yes, you never can tell. Thanks for the review!**

Crayola Color Sky**: --adds another delightful lady to the roster-- Streamers and balloons: duly noted. Ah!! I read that paragraph multiple times, and I never noticed that. How wretched of me! Yes, it was supposed to be "which was what hurt most" It's corrected and you have a shout-out! I didn't kill off his family... that would be altogether far too sad.**

Mazkeraide**: Erm, yes, denial usually isn't good. Generally speaking. A snow day should clear you up. Here's hoping you get one! --clink-- Oh, oh, that was a bit edgy. I KNOW it won't make up for her death, but distraction for a little while might be welcome. I suppose that means you don't want to come. Review thing? --cocks head inquisitively to the side--**

Ellsbeta**There! I changed one person's perspective. I feel a little better about myself now. --smile-- Oh, I can't even believe I almost made Jody's feelings for Celeste different. Originally, he admitted it in this chapter, and the combination of a lot of different things was just weighing my stomach like a pit of lead. Actually, I've got the same feeling physically as I type this. I hate being sick. Moving on. THEN, I realized, and separated, a few of the problems, and rewrote the Jody part. Of course he couldn't just change his mind like that. Cadmus was rushing things. --glare at him-- Not that he'll pay any attention to me. --Cadmus pointedly turns chalkboard away and continues sketching-- Stubborn little guy. Wonderful! One more for the party! --adds name to roster--**

daring2dream**: You know I can't answer that. Keep your ears and eyes open and watch for evidence! Brief but loaded is a good way to describe it. --chuckle-- And another for the party! Fantastic! --adds name to the roster--**

Bingo7**: --hands you an almost tissue for your almost tears-- You and Faylinn both hugged him; he probably feels a bit better now. I figure he could especially use some womanly comfort after this recent turn of events. You hit the nail on the head. Good deduction!**

ElvishKiwi**: Oh! I hate it when that happens! --stomps foot!-- Oh good, more for the party. --adds you to roster-- And your presents! I want them! Ah, thanks for the advice. Influential would be one way to describe her... --cough-- Oh good! I told** Lobuck** and she's glad to hear it. Now, I just need to get her to post another chapter. --nudge at **Lobuck** in case she's reading this-- Oh wow! Two in the morning? I'm sorry! I didn't realize it was that interesting. I hope he didn't have anything to do the next day. --waves at family-- I am nervous! For sure! I love the 'golly' thing too! It just makes me chuckle because it's so... Jodyish, but not very typical-blacksmith-ish. Heehee. Good speculation! Made me chuckle at the last bit. Roddy/Mara Leigh. AHH!!**

ElvishKiwis Venerated Ancestor**The designers of the website get on my nerves too. --sympathetic face-- Thank you! I try to make it unpredictable, though some things are terribly predictable, or at least in the sense that people yell "I KNEW IT!" after it happens, even though they were afraid to say that's what they thought. Heh. 1: Oho, good idea. 2: Good observation. I'm glad I handled it well. 3: Did this chapter explain anything? And on; character comparisons. I'm flattered! --adds you to the party roster-- I hope I capture you well enough! You're proud of me? --warm fuzzy inside-- Thanks!**

lorena**: Thanks for reviewing! I brought back Celeste and Mara Leigh, is that good enough? ;-)**

Clar the Pirate(invisibly)**: Your plans to justify your opinion never cease to amaze me. Your brilliance awes me. Good ideas. --grin-- How do you like Meriwether now? Any sympathy at all? Not knowing is the worst part of something like that. Roddy doesn't know WHY, so he can't make sense of it. And, knowing his analytical brain, that could be a problem... Aha, thanks for the advice!**

'Pename Here'**: Bad kid. --adds you to roster, belated--**

**Okay, the party is actually in a story by itself. It was too long to tack onto the end of the chapter, at over 4,000 words. It should be right below this on the Fairy Tales page. Also, below this, should be a wonderful one-shot in response to **Clar the Pirate**'s guessing Roderic's no-contraction habit. I actually like it, so you should read it, please? It's supposed to be an attempt at humor, so either laugh at it's funniness, or laugh at my pitiful attempt at it.**

**Candy hearts to reviewers, naturally, as it's V-day!**

**Thank you,** Clar the Pirate**, for pointing out my typo!  
**


	28. Where Life is Beautiful All the Time

**3 . 3 . 08**

**So, life jumped on me and pinned me to the ground for two and a half weeks. My apologies: I hate long gaps between chapters. I am alive. For the most part. --weak chuckle--**

**The gap came also from the fact that I wrote and typed all the way from where I was then (18? Maybe.) through half of this chapter over Christmas break, and have been posting then whenever I felt like it, as it was already written. Now, I actually had to do a bit of work. Also, after writing those many chapters, I got burned out, and have been struggling with an apathetic muse ever since. I think I've regained him, however, so updates will hopefully be once a week / week and a half again. --crossed fingers--**

* * *

"_Is that why you came here, then?" Shahzad asked. "To find what you do have to be?" _

_Xavia smiled. "I suppose so. Its a nice idea anyway, that somehow, somewhere, we all are needed. All have things we have to do, have to be."_

"_Do you believe it?" Shahzad asked, looking at her sideways._

"_I think I do," she replied._

Golden Sands --FaylinnNorse

* * *

Roderic took that half an hour to sternly counsel himself about what he was and wasn't going to say, no matter what he felt like saying. He was_not_ going to vilipend Johnathon. _I am not. I did the same thing! And though Samantha was not anybody's wife.._

Johnathon sidled in to the parlor at precisely half an hour after Roderic's arrival, making the Prince wonder if he'd been waiting outside the door. The first sentence Johnathon spoke banished any ill-will Roderic might have harbored.

"I'm sorry," Johnathon said in a low voice, scratchy and awkward, but firm: harder than Roderic had ever heard it before. "It was wrong of me to... do that."

"I forgive you," Roderic said, trying to catch his gaze, to understand what he was thinking. "I understand. Believe, me, I understand. I just – no. Thank you for apologizing. It means a lot to me."

Johnathon nodded, still looking anywhere except at Roderic. His mouth was pinched, and Roderic could tell he was uncomfortable with the whole situation. _Who would not be?_

"Roderic," he started, "just tell me what you want me to do. Leave you alone, get another job, whatever. I'll understand."

"Oh, no! Do not leave!" Roderic cried, making Johnathon's head snap up in surprise. "I need you."

"Need me," Johnathon said with a snort. "So I can ruin your life more?"

Roderic was surprised by the bitter note in Johnathon's voice. _It is apparent that he punished himself more than I could have,_ he thought.

"No," Roderic said softly, "to keep me out of trouble. I could not be the man I am today without you, and I am not going to condemn you for one mistake."

"It was a big mistake," Johnathon said.

"There is no scale of sins," Roderic reminded him. "Yours is as bad as lying or disobeying. I forgive you."

Johnathon was quiet, considering the statement.

"What I really want to know is, do you have any idea who might have wanted to kill her?" Roderic asked.

Johnathon folded his hands and jerked his head from side to side.

"I haven't an idea. I've been trying to figure it out. Rod, I don't think everything adds up. The body, for one. They don't have it. They say that the amount of blood shows there's no way she could be alive. But why didn't they leave the body? What could they possibly want with it? It doesn't make sense. There has to be something more that we're just not seeing."

"What is the general assumption of what happened to her?" Roderic asked, sitting down.

Johnathon, who seemed to have forgotten his earlier disgrace in the light of this situation, sat also and regarded Roderic with bright eyes.

"They say a group of three or four came into her room and slit her throat. They let her bleed a while, watching her die – the twisted villains – then padded the wound so it wouldn't leave a trail, and heaved her out. No one noticed anything until the next morning when the maid came in and saw blood all over the floor and the bed. There was no screaming, or scuffle of any kind, apparently, or it would have woken the servants in the nearby rooms."

"Who was in the room nearest?"

"Samantha," Johnathon said quickly. "And she swears up and down that she didn't hear anything. She was in town the night before on leave, though, and it wouldn't surprise me if she had a little something while she was there. She doesn't handle her liquor too well – she would have been out harder than a rock."

"How do you know she doesn't handle her liquor well?" Roderic asked in curiosity.

Johnathon smiled.

"Grew up in a liquor-free home. The first taste she had was a glass of champagne when she was 17 at her friend's wedding – one of the servants, you wouldn't know her. Nice party, though – and she was giggling for an hour before she fell asleep and had to be carried home. And that was _one_ glass. Of _champagne._She's seemed a little put-out lately. Maybe wanted to have something to cheer her up? Who knows. The point is, she wouldn't be of any help. Peter MacGregor was next closest, and he didn't hear anything either."

"I need to talk to him," Roderic said, standing up.

"They've already questioned him, Rod. I don't think you'll get anything else out of him," Johnathon protested.

"I have to, Johnathon," Roderic said, and Johnathon didn't question it again.

Roderic turned to leave.

"There's something else I need to tell you," Johnathon said slowly.

Roderic paused and turned his head around.

"The funeral, it's going to be held a week from today."

Roderic started to walk out the door.

"Rod?" Johnathon said again.

Roderic didn't turn around this time, but stopped with his hand on the doorframe.

"Look, I hate to be the one to say this, but even if she wasn't dead two days ago, she's probably dead now. Your country needs you," Johnathon said. "Be strong for them. You need to accept this and move on."

_Can strong people not have hope?_

_Be reasonable._

"I know," he said quietly, and left the room.

* * *

"Joseph?" Jody called, but the noise of the square drowned out even his voice.

He spun around, looking for someone to ask if they had seen Joseph. People made a wide berth around him, though, and it was hard to catch someone on their own.

"Excuse me!" he called, tapping a robust man on the shoulder.

He turned to face him warily.

"Aye?"

"Have you seen a singer? A minstrel who rhymed everything. A bit off his rocker? About this tall?"

He gestured to his elbow.

"Sad looking fellow? He went that way just a minute ago with some buddies of his. Didn't look too happy about it, neither."

"Thanks," Jody started to say, but the man had already disappeared.

He trotted off in the direction of the man's pointing finger, trying to scan the alleys and side streets through the masses of people. He continued to call for Joseph with hardly any hope of the boy hearing him. Who knew if his hearing had been addled as much as his wits…

He only found the boy when he caught a scrap of strangled song as he passed a dirty alleyway. The voice was unmistakably Joseph's, young and anxious about something. He halted and peered down the shadowed gap between buildings, trying to discern Joseph from the other darkness. He caught sight of movement near the end, and Joseph's singing rhyme rang in his ears again, though he couldn't hear the words over the dull roar behind him.

He ran as quietly as he could down the alley until he was almost upon them, then they stepped onto a main road again.

"Keep your mouth _shut_, jester, or I'll do something a little more permanent," one of them said, making no attempt to keep his voice down. He had Joseph's arm in a tight grip, and the look on his face was anything but pleasant.

Jody followed them close behind, making stock of his chances. There were five of them, but they weren't expecting anyone to come for Joseph, so he could take them by surprise with relative ease. If he could make Joseph cooperate, they could get out of there before they hardly had time to give chase, and (if he was calculating right) the governor's house was just ahead and he could get Majestic from the stable.

_Work with me, buddy,_ Jody thought, hoping the command would reach Joseph's mind somehow.

He quickly made his way up to the small group until he was right behind them.

"Excuse me," he said, pushing between Joseph and his captor.

The man clung tighter to Joseph's arm, but one look at Jody loosened his grip in surprise. Jody's hand quickly replaced his, and he bolted through the crowd, dragging Joseph behind him. The people generally stayed out of his way, except one girl whom he almost trampled. He barely avoided her, though she did drop her basket in fright and spilled her fruit all over the road. Crimson, acid green, and sunny yellow rolled into the street, their bright colors quickly dulled by the rising dust.

He spun around the next corner and was grateful to see the Governor's mansion, with the stables off to the side. Still running, not daring to look behind him, he darted into the stable and located Majestic, the largest horse.

"Don't say anything, just get on the horse," he said breathlessly, shoving Joseph onto the saddle.

Joseph kept obligingly quiet and steadied himself on the black horse as Jody mounted and rode out of the barn, looking for their pursuers. He spotted them just entering the courtyard, and, much to Majestic's credit, he managed to vault them all. The effect was wonderful, as Jody and Joseph both escaped, and their foes were left open-jawed and awestruck.

Jody rode out of the city and up the less-traveled path into the woods. When he was sure that they were no longer being followed, he pulled Majestic off the path by a small stream and got off. Joseph hopped off, light footed, after him.

"Care to tell me who I just rescued you from and why?" Jody said with some minor annoyance, though he really did enjoy himself, splashing some water onto his face.

"_You saved me from my captors,_

_Who knows what they were after,_

_I've done them service enough to see,_

_What a terrible wretch it's made of me," _Joseph explained in a mournful minor key.

"And why are you singing all the time? And rhyming? What's going on?" Jody said, still with his temper under control.

"_My strange rhyming scheme,_

_Is the least important thing," _Joseph said, sitting down on a rock and swinging his legs into the creek.

Majestic shied away from him, eying him warily.

"What's important then?" Jody sighed. This was going to be a lot more confusing than he had originally thought.

"_The Princess hasn't died,_

_Though the murderer had tried,_

_To force the Prince to take a second bride._

_His love is far from view,_

_And we don't know who's who,_

_But 'pon my life she is alive, it's true._

"Princess Katharine isn't dead?" he said, aghast. "How do you know?"

"_They forced me to spy,_

_As a second pair of eyes._

_They asked me to see,_

_And gave me a key._

_At first I didn't know,_

_What they wanted so,_

_But quickly the truth,_

_Had me running, forsooth._

_Now they're mad as – wolverines,"_

"You too, by golly," Jody muttered, but Joseph kept singing.

"_For trying to spill the beans,_

_'S a good thing you came,_

_Or I might be just a name."_

Jody considered Joseph's words for a moment before he decided to credit them.

"Does anyone else know?"

Joseph shook his head. Jody was relieved at the non-verbal communications. Songs and rhyme quickly ground on his nerves.

"_No one believes me,_

_They all think I'm crazy,"_ Joseph said.

_That makes everyone,_ Jody thought, barely suppressing the irritated tone in his voice as he spoke.

"Well, we have to tell the authorities," Jody said.

Joseph shook his head frantically.

"_This group of lovely fiends,_

_Has spread their clutches wide,_

_To be sure they get off free,_

_They got their men inside."_

"Do you know who works with them?" Jody asked, patiently.

Joseph shook their head.

"Too careful? Covered their tracks?" Jody hazarded.

Joseph nodded.

"Oh golly," he sighed. "The Prince has to know! He going to marry someone else!"

Joseph nodded, bobbing his head so hard Majestic shied away even further, nickering.

"Well, we can't just walk in the front doors, " Jody said sarcastically. "But I'm not sure he would believe us. We are a strange pair. You might be able to tell them what's going on, but I hardly think they'll sit through your rhymes. Can't you stop?"

Joseph shook his head.

"Well then. Do you know anyone who works in the palace?"

Joseph rolled his head in what might have been a 'yes' or a 'no.'

"Which is it?"

Joseph winced.

"_I know a girl from there,_

_But she won't let us in,_

_With the news we bear."_

"It's worth a try," Jody said, "even if she doesn't believe us."

Joseph looked exasperated, but chose to remain silent.

Jody was thankful.

They made their way to the palace with a few rhyming instructions from Joseph. They rode at a steady pace, which gave Jody time to think of the new development.

_Princess Katharine is not dead? Or is Joseph really crazy? He got hit pretty hard, but I don't know if he got hit _that_ hard. If this all turns out to be nothing, I'm going to kick that kid into next week._

The magnificent palace came into view soon, and Jody was awestruck by the handiwork, especially of the wrought-iron gate to the garden._Wonderful work,_ he thought admiringly as they passed it on the worn path to the back of the palace. Joseph pointed out the way to what Jody assumed was the servants' entrance, which lead through a colorful garden.

They came to the plain wooden door and both of them slid off Majestic, Jody holding on to the horse's reigns.

"Go knock and find the girl you know," Jody prompted.

Joseph shook his head.

"_I tried to say to you,_

_She will not let us through."_

"I'll ask for her then," Jody said in exasperation, banging on the door.

Joseph hummed something about that not being a good idea, but Jody ignored him. A man with messy red hair opened the door and stared at the pair of them, eyes confused and wary. Behind him, a kitchen filled to bursting with people was issuing a lot of noise and steam. It was almost frightening.

"How can I help you?" he said gruffly.

"We're looking for his friend," Jody said, nodding toward Joseph. "It's a bit urgent."

Joseph snorted. The man looked hesitant, but backed into the bustling kitchen behind him.

"Come in, I'll send someone for her. Adelaide, right?"

Joseph nodded, and they followed the man in, through the dangerous kitchen and into a narrow hallway. Jody's head almost brushed the flat stone ceiling. As soon as the man left them to find Adelaide, Joseph bolted with eerie soundlessness down the narrow corridor.

"Joseph!" Jody hissed, but had no other choice than to follow him.

Joseph dashed down hall after hall, turning left and right dizzily until Jody had no concept of direction. Torches illuminated the pathway, and they flashed by in bright bursts of orange. Several times, he almost ran into someone, but they both managed to dodge the other just in time. Jody tried to tell Joseph to stop, but the lithe boy ignored him, keeping just out of reach.

On level ground, Jody could have caught him, but the walls were so close together and the ceiling so low that he had to tuck his arms close to his body and duck his head, which greatly restricted his gait. After a close call with a linen maid, Jody was about to lunge for Joseph to make him stop when the boy froze in front of a door. Jody barely stopped himself from knocking him over, breathing heavily.

"_If my memory does not fail,_

_This open door the Prince will hail," _Joseph sang quietly.

Jody just nodded, trying to catch his breath. He noticed with a measure of annoyance that Joseph was hardly winded. The boy pushed the door open and they both squinted in the suddenly bright light streaming from the windows. They found themselves just outside an ornate door, with the nearly-invisible smaller door swinging shut behind them. Joseph knocked smartly on the mahogany and gold paneling, but there was no answer.

"Excuse me, what are you doing there?" a sweet voice said behind them.

They turned around to see a pretty, brown haired woman in a plain brown uniform dress.

"Jester?" she said in surprise, and Joseph smiled winningly. "What are you doing here, and who's the neanderthal?" She jerked her thumb in Jody's direction.

Jody bristled at her biting tone, but said nothing.

"_We came to see his highness, please,_

_Take us to him, and don't be a tease,"_ Joseph sang.

Adelaide's expression turned suspicious.

"Why do you want to talk to him?" she asked.

Joseph grinned angelically.

"_My friend has something he needs to hear,_

_Thank you, Addy, you're such a dear."_

"What does he need to hear?" she said, her voice lowering dangerously in volume.

Jody shook his head and pressed a finger to his lips. Addy flushed, and before either male could react, she had Joseph against the wall.

"You told him?" she hissed, practically spitting in his face.

Jody saw the flash of a knife as he was already rushing toward her. He grabbed the with the knife and twisted it forcefully behind her back. She yelled in pain and surprise and Jody prized the small knife from her grip, pulse thudding in his ears. He jerked her away from the semi-stunned Joseph and handed him the knife before spinning her around to face him. The mixture of fear and anger burned in her eyes, throwing him back a few days to the last battle. He saw those eyes through the helmets of the Philettin soldiers, a whole army of those eyes, daring him to kill them.

"Don't threaten my friends if you want to live," he said, his voice not even trembling, though the vividness of the fabricated memory still fought for a spot in his mind.

"What is happening here?" a voice called down the hallway.

It was quickly followed by the Prince himself, jogging down the corridor looking almost panicked.

"Thieves!" Addy screeched, trying to struggle out of Jody's grip.

"We're not thieves," Jody exclaimed quickly, easily preventing Adelaide's escape, "and I have reason to believe that this girl was involved in the kidnapping and near-murder of your wife."

"That's ridiculous!" Addy said shrilly. "We've all been extensively questioned and I've been found innocent!"

Prince Roderic looked decidedly torn, looking in confusion from the huge man, to the angry looking maid, to the young man holding a knife gingerly.

"She tried to attack us, because we wanted to see you," Jody said, not breaking eye contact with the prince and hoping he sounded convincing enough.

The bright grey eyes flickered between the two of them, his brows met in confusion. The panic had subsided now, and as Jody watched, his face became more guarded and composed, though his cheeks were pale. Without speaking, he opened the ornate door and pulled a string that was just inside. Someone came through the servants' door hardly a minute later, bowing to the Prince. His eyes took in the strange scene, but he said nothing except,

"How may I help you, Your Majesty?"

"Take this woman to the dungeon and order that she be interrogated about the murder of the Princess," he ordered.

"It will be done," the man said, chancing an awestruck look at Jody as the bigger man passed Adelaide to him.

When they both had gone, the Prince turned to them, the weariness only visible in his tired eyes.

"You are the one that saved my life," he said to Jody, as if there was nothing else to say.

"I am," Jody said, because there was nothing else to say to that statement. "But there's something else you need to know. Princess Katharine – she might not be dead."

* * *

Roderic slowly blinked, almost refusing to process the information._Katharine, alive? If it is not true, getting hopes up now will result in more pain. If it is true, how can I ignore it? Is it better to be safe and unhurt, or risk the pain in hope for joy?_

The young man was standing next to the tall one, both of them looking at him carefully. They expected an answer, a reaction, something. _But what is there to say?_

_What is there not to say?_

He recalled her as he had last seen her with his eyes, as he rode away from the castle. She was in a floaty dress, which was being tossed by the early morning breeze. Her hair waved about her face, which was cold and hard again, and her hands were in gloves that reached her elbows, yellow and silky. He was reminded of the dream so far back, where she was wearing green scaled gloves, and sported a snake's tongue. Images crowded his mind: her laughing, her forked tongue slipping out, her kissing Johnathon, her clinging to him in the darkness—_I wish there was an easy way to know what I should do!_

And then, as if someone just swept the confusion away like so many crumbs on a table, there was silence in his mind.

_Go after her. _The voice wasn't his own, but he recognized it as that of the Sorceress Freesia, who'd given him a gift at his wedding ball. What gift?

_The solution to a perplexing difficulty,_ he recalled. _Well._

_Is she alive? _he thought, asking her, hopefully.

_Even if she is not, you must go after her,_ her voice said coolly._ As far as they know, they tell the truth. They are honest men._

"I believe you," he said quietly, and his own thoughts crowded back onto him, the echoing voice gone.

The two men relaxed.

Roderic heaved a breath and let it out.

"Where is she?" he asked.

The tall man, Jody, he thought he remembered, looked at the young man who shrugged. Jody opened his mouth for an angry retort, but the minstrel forestalled it with an uplifted hand. He paused a moment, thinking, then hummed a twisting introduction before singing:

"_Listen closely, everyone,_

_We play a game that's not much fun._

_Though we play against our will,_

_the object is important still._

_-_

_My 'friends,' you say, want her dead,_

_but kidnapped, then, she was instead._

_A different group than those I know,_

_Stole her away, and ran to go._

_-_

_Our next move decides her fate._

_Do we follow her, or sit and wait?_

_For if they catch us on their trail,_

_they will kill her without fail._

_-_

_Whispers say men loyal to crown,_

_have sniffed them out and tracked her down._

_They keep her in fear of another attack,_

_defenses aren't strong, it's something we lack._

_-_

_I haven't a clue where she could be,_

_possibly even out to sea!_

_The only help I offer in the end,_

_are my stealthy jester friends."_

The boy wiped his brow as the last few notes faded to silence. Roderic realized, instantly, how difficult it must be to rhyme and sing everything, and wondered what was wrong with him. _He might be touched,_ he thought nervously, looking at Jody, who was watching him for his reaction. _Freesia said to "go after her," and it seems this is my best option. I hope she knows what she is doing._ The hazy picture the minstrel had painted in his mind made slightly more sense than the one being purported by the majority of the country, but his logical mind was not thoroughly convinced. _Talking with jesters could not harm anything,_ he reasoned.

"We had better go find the jesters, yes?" Roderic said, looking between the two.

The boy raised his eyebrows, appraising Roderic's sumptuous attire.

"We can't leave the palace with you dressed like that," Jody said quickly, interrupting the minstrel before he could sing anything similar. "Meet us in the kitchen in four hours. Do you have any money on hand?"

"I am afraid not; I have no need for it in the palace," Roderic replied regretfully.

"Figured as much," Jody said with a grunt. Roderic received the distinct impression that Jody did not like him. "I'll consider you in debt, then. I'll buy you something to help you blend in with the crowd like us."

Roderic glanced at Jody's immense stature and the humming boy, but made no comment.

"I will be in the kitchen in four hours' time," he promised.

Jody nodded rigidly, then he and the minstrel disappeared through the almost invisible door.

* * *

**Final word count: 4065**

**That was a load of information! TMI? Not enough? Confused? Intrigued? Bored? Opinions!**

FaylinnNorse**: Some people are in denial... --wicked smile-- Boyfriend. Fiancé, actually. Andrew is such a nice boy. Oh, but you don't know that. Well, rest assured, he is. How terrible of me to pull them asunder, as it will. --pats Andrew on the back-- 'Salright, there are other women. It was terribly awkward, wasn't it? I mean, we have Roddy, who just doesn't get angry (I can't tell you how hard it was to write him**_**not**_** angry) and we have Johnathon, strong and helpful. His characters**_**don't**_** mess up in stories, because they're always right. I thought, "Oh, I'll make Johnathon make this mistake, and make him more real," and then afterward realized just how terribly difficult apologizing would have to be. How does someone who's always right apologize? Hopefully, like that.**

Crayola Color Sky**: Of course, I had to bring them back. I can't just kill both heroines at the same time, how terrible would that be for the plot. I would have to end it two chapters later, with Jody being depressed for life Roderic marrying Meri, or I would have to go on for another 28 chapters and describe how they both lived happily ever after, finally. Nope. Celeste is too important to the story. At least she's not a brat. Joseph is the epitome of puzzling.**

silliana**: That sounds terrible. Most people would have given up, but I'm glad you didn't! Eh, I think it's a combination of the two. People put my story on their Favorites or Alerts list without reviewing, so I can't thank them for it in a reply, so a PM just makes sense. And, also, I hope that with some people I can break the ice so they don't feel awkward if they review. I've sent out who-knows-how-many of those PMs, and I think you are the 2****nd**** person ever to review. Heh. Thanks! Hum, confusion isn't good. I'll have to see if I can rework that, because you aren't the only person who seemed to have trouble with it. **

Ellsbetta**: Doh! And you're confused too. Yup. I'll probably have to rewrite that... Yeah, Celeste was angry, but she was more worried about him, you know? She's a hopeless woman sometimes, worrying about Jody when she's a POW. --shakes head sadly-- I'm glad to see Joseph back, too. He's fun to write, heh.**

Clar the Pirate**: Predictions, predictions. If predictions were nickels, you'd be a rich lady. As it is, an imagination is better. I can't thank you enough for your speculation. --hands over a giant candy heart, slightly stale from the wait-- Oh, dear. Well, they're nasty anyway. Now it's a writing tablet. Thanks for pointing out the typo. Another shout-out for you! Happy and joyful is good! I hope this chapter made you at least snicker, at least at my terribly obvious inability at rhyming well. Minor bad stuff, hum? I'll file that request with Cadmus, but his inbox is strangely dusty. I don't think he's looked in it for a while. They're not ridiculous! Don't down yourself. You're brilliant. She is such a child. A refreshing point of view in this adult and complicated world.**

Mazkeraide**: Well, I hope you had a good time in CA! Oh, did you do that first? I thought I was being clever. --hangs head-- Was that enough info from Joseph for you? --grin--**

daring2dream**: Believe me, I know how the hectic-life thing goes. Thanks for reviewing at all. Oh, good job picking that up. Roderic did say that Meri reminded him of Katty, but why? Hm... Joseph is pretty incredibly confusing. I'm having fun putting hidden messages and things in his songs. Heehee. Hugs and chocolate. That sounds ultimately wonderful. --sigh-- And good, keep looking for clues, Nancy Drew, but I'm NOT telling you anything. It would spoil it, anyhow.**

Tall One**: Patience! --laugh-- Here it is. Enjoy.**

ElvishKiwi**: They're so cute together. I love that little messed up family. Especially Mara Leigh, who doesn't know how messed up it is, heh. Roddy and Mara Leigh are gorgeous together? Roddy's half dead. (not literally!) They'd be cuter if he was tuned into reality. --bonks Rod solidly on the dead-- Well, Jody's over six and a half feet tall, so if you say "**_**Big,**_** tall, buff guy, you'd know him if you saw him," then I think Jody would be the first guy I'd think of. He just stands out in a crowd. And the blacksmith deal, because he has massive upper body strength, you know? The dreams are good for him! Just keep saying that to yourself. Over and over. And someone else picked up on the similarity between Meri and Katty. Good. Good news, hm? Was this good for you?**Lobuck**_is_ wicked. I've shoved her appropriately and she's aiming for next Monday, tentatively. She fears your brother's wrath. Oooh, slovenly habit like not updating for two and half weeks after a cliffhanger of sorts? --nervous chuckling--**

**And thank you, **CaptainFantastic**, for pseudo-reviewing this chapter via Roderic's Birthday Party. There's not much I can say to yay, except; yay for yaying! So yes. Hopefully you're less wiped out now? --hopes--**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Midnight Duchess**, for pointing out my mistake!**


	29. The Fair Is in August

**18 . 3 . 08**

**Would you believe me if I told you I had every intention of updating one week ago? --dodges angry comments--**

**Special thanks to **FaylinnNorse** for writing inspiring lines (as you can see, I've just quoted her two chapters in a row) and **ElvishKiwi's Venerated Patriarch **for convincing me to shirk my duties and type this up when I should be doing other things. Should I thank him? Heh. Maybe YOU should thank him.**

* * *

"_You don't have to love me, Xavia, I still love you." _

_She said nothing, but smiled slightly through her tears. She had needed him to say that, needed to know that someone did, no matter what she thought of him._

Golden Sands –FaylinnNorse 

* * *

Roderic watched them go, questioning of MacGregor completely forgotten, with an insurmountably varied range of emotions. He was overjoyed that Katharine might be alive, worried that the jester might not know what he was talking about, petrified that Katharine might be dead, incredulous about the general far-fetched-ness of the entire situation, and puzzled about Jody's opinions of him. He was painfully informal, with a dominative brusqueness that jarred his sense of normality. The man seemed to hardly respect the fact that he was a prince. While it did not anger him, it was immensely different from everyone else's preferential treatment of him. Jody made him feel – _what do I feel? Normal. That is it. He makes me feel inferior, but in a comforting way, like the pressure is not on me this time. I do not mind _that_ at all._

"Roderic?"

The sweet voice startled him and he turned around quickly. Samantha stood in front of him with an unsure look on her face. _What time is it?_ he thought suddenly, wishing to have a clock within sight so he could gage when he needed to be in the kitchen.

"I was... looking for you," she said, to fill the silence Roderic had not noticed while he had been deep in his thought.

She caught his eyes, pools of brown drawing him in.

"You loved her, didn't you? At the end, you really fell for her."

He nodded wordlessly. Without anything else being said, she hugged him tightly. For once, it didn't seem suggestive or tantalizing, but simply friendly. She was trying to comfort him, the only way she knew how. He hugged her back tentatively, then she let go.

"That's awful, what happened, and it's making a mess of everything. I'm here if you ever want to talk, alright?" she said earnestly, her eyebrows pulling together in worry as she scanned his face.

_I might have wanted to talk before, but now I have been told that Katharine might not actually be dead, so for the moment I believe I am handling everything well enough, given the circumstances. Thank you, anyway._

"Yes, thank you, but I believe I am alright, now," he said honestly.

She gave him one last anxious look, then started to walk away.

"Don't hesitate to call me," she reminded him before she turned the corner.

He entered his room, unwilling to spend too much time thinking about Samantha. _There are far more important things to worry about at the moment, _he thought. _Like the time!_ He looked at the clock, and suddenly remembered that Meriwether was to arrive at three o'clock. It was now two-fifteen. _Jody will be expecting me around six. Oh dear. I will have to run from dinner directly to the kitchen. I hope Meriwether is not the following-the-rules-to-the-letter type, because typically we would have tea following dinner. I will have to make an excuse for a few hours' absence. I cannot lie. I suppose, if I said I was going for a walk, it would not be a direct lie. _He considered this, then shook his head. _No. I cannot do it convincingly. Oh, Samantha!_

He began to contemplate whether it would be faster to try to find her himself, or send a servant to fetch her, but Philip arrived before he came to a decision, declaring that it was time to dress.

"What do you wish to wear to greet the Princess?" the manservant asked, pulling his wardrobe open.

"Black, of course," Roderic murmured, mind elsewhere.

_How am I going to speak with Samantha now? As soon as the Princess arrives, I will be obligated to stay by her side._

"Naturally, your highness," Philip said with a suppressed sigh, "but you just obtained six new black outfits. Which would you like?"

"I do not have an opinion. Choose something that is somewhat informal. She might be petrified of me, and I do not wish to scare her." He paused to think. "That might make her think me weak, however, so perhaps it should be more formal. Do I have anything that would make me appear regal, yet friendly and not intimidating?"

Philip eyed the wardrobe with a critical glare, then pulled out one of the new black outfits, edged in crisp white with silver vines twining through it.

"Will this do?" he asked respectfully.

Roderic took it from him and went into the bathroom.

"You are superb, as usual, Philip," he said through the door.

"With haste, your majesty; your hair looks like you've been running all over the palace."

Roderic smiled guiltily and pushed the buttons together meticulously.

Despite (or perhaps, because of) Roderic's impatient fidgeting, he hadn't a moment to himself before he was rushed to the front gates.

"Your hair is terrible," Philip fumed as he trotted down the hallway, gesturing Roderic after him. "It will never stay! It is a wonder the country respects you at all when you look like a peasant with that mop."

_Maybe they respect me because I look like a peasant,_ Roderic contradicted him in his mind, scanning the halls for Samantha. He had considered telling Phillip to send Samantha to him after dinner, but he didn't want to have any suggestions of rumors floating about, especially with the heartbroken princess staying there for the next few days. She might have a better concept of morals than Katharine. Or, she might not. _Either way, it is not worth jeopardizing my good standing in the eyes of my future wife._ His eyes narrowed and him mouth tightened, almost in a flinch. _Hopefully she will not be my wife, _he thought, concentrating on the hope that Katharine might be alive.

He was arranged in position a respectful five feet from the head of the line of neatly dressed maids and manservants, to await the royal carriage. Phillip quickly took his place midway down the line.

There was silence.

The only sound, barely audible, was the sound of the Rijhadite and Terriotian flags rustling in the hot breeze. Roderic was sure he was not the only one sweating in the oppressive heat. The air was thick and heavy; the breeze did nothing to cool his face. The empyrean was clear and blue, filling his eyes with the promise of cool, clear water but offering nothing for its tantalizing aquamarine hue.

"How are you?" a whispered voice asked behind him. He almost jumped.

"Samantha?" he muttered, recognizing the sweet, childlike voice.

"On the nose," she said with a repressed chuckle. "So?"

"I am nervous, thank you. Could you bring yourself to do me a favor?" he asked.

"Anything in the world," she said, and Roderic couldn't tell if she was in earnest, or jesting. He continued on.

"I need to get away tonight. Will you come up with an excuse for me?"

"Wittle Wodewick needs Sammy to wie?" she said in a baby voice.

"No, not exactly," he said uncomfortably. "It might be true. Actually, it will be true if you tell them I'm going for a ride."

"That's not the whole truth. What about morals?" she teased.

"Samantha," he said, sounding more irritated than he meant to.

"Don't get your knickers in a bunch," she said, the surprise evident in her voice. "I'll take care of it. What are you going to be doing?"

"Do not worry about me," he said, not sure exactly why he wasn't telling Samantha what he was doing.

There was a momentary silence, and Roderic thought she might be angry, but her next words were soft.

"You take care of yourself, okay?"

Her hand slipped into his and squeezed it, sending a brief shiver up his spine, but he shook it off with a guilty conscience. Her hand slid out again.

"I do," he replied, tripping over his tongue. "I do take care of myself, and I will tonight."

He saw a large carriage emblazoned with the Terriotian royal family's crest emerge from the woods.

"You had better go inside before you get into trouble," he warned.

"Seeya," she said cheerfully, and she must have left then, though Roderic didn't hear her go.

He flexed his hand and curled it into a fist, trying to rid himself of the momentary comfort Samantha had offered.

The carriage was dusty, with dried mud crusted in the spokes of the wheels: evidence of the fierce Terriotian summer rains. The rains washed away most of the Terriotian crops, though the Rijhadite farmers had been including erosion prevention in their farming advice. _Hopefully they are doing better this year,_ Roderic thought, as the announcer emerged from the carriage with his glinting trumpet.

"Announcing her royal highness, Princess Meriwether, accompanied by King Gollath, Crown Prince Everard, and Prince Willnim!" he declared, then trilled the royals' arrival on his instrument.

The small Terriotian flags on the carriage fell limp as it stopped, and the footman descended from his post elegantly, opening the door and helping King Gollath onto the smooth stone welcoming area. Roderic bowed.

"Your highness," Roderic said, as all the servants bowed or curtsied. "I hope the journey was agreeable?"

"It would have been much better under different circumstances," the king replied lightly. "But Meriwether is delighted to do her part in keeping the countries together."

Roderic nodded respectfully, catching a glimpse of pain in the older man's eyes. He moved into the castle, escorted by a servant. Prince Everard – Katharine's brother – had already been helped from the carriage. Roderic remembered him mostly from the conferences where they worked out the treaty, and recalled him as a hard and calculating man. He was only twenty-two, but held himself with a remarkably confident poise that mirrored his older sister's exactly.

"My lord," Roderic said to him with a bow as he approached.

Prince Everard bowed back. His usually cool, haughty bearing was not quite all there. He was obviously struggling with the news, and seeing all the sad people was beginning to make Roderic doubt the rhyming stranger's convictions.

Prince Willnim, Meriwether's father, was being helped down as a servant escorted Prince Everard inside. Roderic had not met him before, and was taken aback when he felt he was looking at a masculine version of Katharine, exactly down to the unreadable mask and dark eyes. He bowed to the man with a murmured,

"My lord."

The man bowed in return, though somewhat clumsily, as if he was out of practice, and grasped Roderic's hand, much to his surprise. It was cool and dry, just like Katharine's, and his mask slipped away.

"I beg of you, my prince," he said huskily, "I beg of you, please help her be happy. However that must be, I beg you, and please look after her. She is young and silly, and I have, foolishly I see now, kept her from many of the unpleasant aspects of this world. I—" He broke off and cleared his throat. "I know you are an honorable man."

Roderic squirmed internally, feeling scrutinized by the hauntingly familiar eyes, as he remembered Samantha's warm hand in his own. He mustered the confidence he had in the conference room and used it to level his voice.

"I will do everything in my power to make her at home. She will not be a prisoner under my care, and she will have whatever she needs and a great deal of what she desires. I will take care of her like she was my own sister," Roderic said reassuringly, though the tone was forced.

He felt sick. He gnawed his lip. It was just now hitting him that, in all likelihood, he would have to marry this girl. _This girl, for she is a girl indeed,_ Roderic thought, watching as she stepped down. _What did she do to deserve this?_ The girl was dressed to impress in a gown of deep purple and black, with a fitted bodice and a slightly puffed skirt. The dress was trimmed with gold to match the elegant chain around her neck and the fastenings in her golden brown hair. She was very tall, _very_ tall. Roderic thought she might even be taller than he was. _Not that I am extremely tall myself,_ he thought. It did not detract from her appearance; she was undeniably pretty, even past the rouge and other colors shaded onto her features at opportunistic points. Her whole outfit made her look four or five years older, which, Roderic noted, was probably the point. Even still, she looked strangely innocent, and very childlike. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy as she approached Roderic for her greeting, and her expression was frightened but curious. _Yes, she is taller than me, by a safe three inches._

"Your highness," she whispered hoarsely, curtsying low before him.

He bowed in return and took her hand, clasping it gently. The other one was ringless.

"My lady. I hope you are well."

"I seem to have caught a cold," she said, looking down and blinking rapidly.

That moved his calm demeanor even more than her father's almost tearful entreaty. The obvious lies, from her dress, to her make up, to her claim at illness, all forced through the vehicle of the naïve and scared child shook him to the core. 

"I hope you recover soon," he said politely, hopefully kindly, and offered his arm.

She took it without looking at him, and they joined her family indoors. They were led to a large parlor by Johnathon, who then offered refreshments.

"Thank you, but Willnim, Everard and I have things to discuss, after we change out of these dusty clothes," the King said, without even sitting down. "Meriwether, dear, talk with Roderic a while. Denise will be by shortly for you, after she has finished bringing in your clothes."

"Show them to their rooms," Roderic said to Johnathon, then turned to the three men. "When you are ready, just ring the bell and a butler will bring you to an empty parlor."

"Thank you, your lordship," Prince Everard said, with a bow.

The other two Terriotian royals bowed, and Roderic returned the gesture. Johnathon tipped him a sympathetic half-smile as he left the room. Meriwether and Roderic were left standing in uncomfortable silence, made more uncomfortable by the fact that there were butlers standing in the corners of the room. Meriwether looked down, fidgeting with a fold in her dress and swallowing hard every few seconds. Surprising himself, Roderic spoke some of the most blunt words in his life.

"Do I frighten you, milady?"

She ventured a look into his eyes, but then dropped her own as quickly as if he had glared at her. He double-checked his expression; he had thought it was kindly, but perhaps it was not.

"No," she said softly. 

She paused, as if she wanted to say something, then bit her lip.

"Ask any question you wish," he said, sensing her uncertainty. "Living with Katharine has dulled my sensitivity to embarrassment."

She seemed to struggle with herself for a moment, then blurted out;

"Did you love her?"

She looked up into his eyes, not wavering though her cheeks pinked with embarrassment.

"I did," Roderic said, the last vision he had had of her flashing before his mind. It hurt a little less this time, and he clung to the struggling hope that it was because she was still alive somewhere. "I loved her very much, more than anyone."

She nodded, lower lip trembling.

"I – well – I'm quite sure no one's told you, but I thought – I thought you deserved to know – even though they're trying to cover it up – " she stuttered, looking humiliated and pained. " – oh don't think me silly, please. I don't hate you, and I'm not terribly immature about marriage and everything, but I – well – "

Roderic, who had been trying to understand what she was saying in her stammering, finally cottoned on to what she was trying to get across and interrupted her, to spare her further discomfort. 

"I know about Andrew," he said quickly, realizing that he was having one of the most straightforward conversations in his life. 

Something about Meriwether urged him to do away with the formalities and eloquence. Something about her made him long to be real.

"How?" she asked, thin eyebrows coming together.

"I dreamt about the two of you," he explained, hoping she knew of his dreams.

Evidently she had, because the confusion slid off her face and her small mouth formed an O.

"Not very much," he hastened to add, in case she had felt he had been spying.

She looked slightly relieved.

"I just wanted you to know," she said quietly, twisting her hands into her skirt again. "Because I do love him. I love him, oh, _ever _so much."

She stopped, at a loss for words, then looked up at him sharply.

"But you know what I mean. You loved her too. I suppose I have it a little better. At least I can still see Andrew sometime."

Meriwether blinked hard and a few tears slipped down her cheeks. Roderic reacted instinctively, partially due to the pain threatening to tear his ruined heart into crumbling detritus, and wrapped his arms around her. With anyone else, it would have been inappropriate, the source of talk, almost a scandal; but with Meriwether it was real. She was hurting in a way much like he was hurting, and embracing her was the only logical thing to do.

She put her hands on his chest and stepped closer to him, crying quietly onto the shoulder of his somber outfit. He, in the perplexing position of comforting a girl you couldn't look down at, just "sssshhh"ed soothingly with steady hands on her back. He let her cry for several minutes, trying to hold the pieces of his heart together with fierce effort. She stepped back eventually, sniffing and wiping her eyes on her hand before remembering her handkerchief. She looked down at him and her face grew more sympathetic than weepy. Softly, she put out her hand and brushed away tears Roderic didn't know he had been crying.

A lucent smile then dashed to the forefront of her expression, and she unconsciously smoothed his rumpled and damp shirt.

"I think we both needed that," she said simply.

Roderic didn't trust his knotted throat to speak, so he just nodded.

* * *

**Final word count: 3067**

**Enter Meriwether, stage right. What do you think of her? What do you think of the Jody-Roderic factor? They're a dynamic pair, and it's very hard to write them.**

Celestial Seraphim**: Thanks! Any tips on where it needs to be smoothened?**

Captain**: Aye aye, Captain it is. Oh, bad sailing jokes. Sorry, I hope I didn't injure you too badly with that one. Rhyming. --shudder-- Yeah, I need to get used to it too. I have to admit though, it's rather fun. It is a writer thing, indeed; everyone wishes everyone else has the gumption to kill a main character. In my defense, I would like to point out that I have killed a main character before. It is? I'm flattered. Definitely flattered.**

lorena**: Thanks! --grin-- I hope this one was worth it too.**

Crayola Color Sky**: I actually wasn't sure if I was going to keep that line. It's one of those that rolled off my fingertips before it had proper clearance. Sometimes, those turn out to be the best. If Johnathon knew, I wonder what he would say... hm. They need him to marry some other lady of the royal bloodline to keep the treaty intact. Isn't that terrible? Uber proud, I'm sure. --can't help a grin-- Yeh, this wasn't soon. Sorry.**

Bingo7**: You only review when it's not depressing? That's more depressing. Well, you know how authors go. --zips lips-- It DOES take a while, to be sure, and thanks for the compliment. Brilliant ideas, heh, I'm glad you think so.**

Ellsbetta**: Making sense is overrated. You never know with those mysterious head injuries. He was mildly annoyed because Joseph didn't seem to take any situation very seriously (due to his singing and rhyming) and he just rescued the kid from people with obviously ill intent and didn't get so much as a thank-you. Nope, she wasn't.**

silliana**: Nope, we haven't seen her before. She's totally new, and more than a bit creepy. --shudder-- Things will clear up eventually. Eventually. That's a really strange solution. Hum. Yes, I think I'd go insane.**

Tall One**: --nod-- Yes, yes. He's just meeting her now; the marriage won't be for a little bit. Interpellate means interrogate, basically, only it sounds cooler. --laugh-- Four hours puts it 'til after dinner, which gives him time before he's missed.**

FaylinnNorse**: It would make a lot of people happy, and Roderic does need some happiness, poor guy. Heh, I was wondering if anyone would catch that. ****"****They're Coming to Take Me Away Ha-Haaa!"**** Turning into an opera. "Oh golly," Jody would say with a groan. The ones that come out of nowhere are sometimes the best. Especially in the case of creepy Adelaide. --laugh-- That's a good description of Roddy and Johnathon... And your little descriptive storyline there actually inspired me to write that scene. I could see it all happening as I was reading it. That was inspiringly wonderful. Thanks.**

Evo422**: I'm glad you thought it was worth it! I appreciate your taking the time to read it, and review. Thank you. I love eloquence, but brain overloads happen, I understand that. Maybe eloquence this time? Hm? --grin-- Writing Joseph's rhyming is hard, but surprisingly not as hard as it could be. That's probably mostly because I just write the first thing that comes to mind, since it's supposed to sound somewhat rough and unrefined. Two votes for Samantha/Johnathon. That would make sense, wouldn't it? Jody's so lovable. --sigh--**

ElvishKiwis Venerated Ancestor**: Little details make my world go 'round. --laugh-- Balance is key, and I'm glad I made it in the last chapter, at least. I do have an answer as to why Samantha was so close; Katharine does not have a steady lady-in-waiting, but the position is rotated from week to week. That week, apparently, was Samantha's. Sorry for the confusion. Thanks for the rhyming tips! Interesting thoughts, about Katharine. Oh, you read Nasap? Good gravy, it really needs to be rewritten. I hope it didn't pain you overmuch. I'm glad you caught the difference between them, though; this is much more of a sorting-out-your-difficulties story, rather than a true fairy tale.**

ElvishKiwi**: Yay for lots of yays that make me smile! --grin-- Good speculation about Joseph. You keep picking up on all these tiny clues! I have to know; do you figure them out all yourself or do your mother/father/sister/other-assorted-family-members mention them as well and you just add them all in to your review as a cumulative discovery? Yes, both of them were ready to put their differences aside, really. They're such wonderful friends that they couldn't bear to keep something Like this between them forever. Yes, moving on to important things is always a plus. Interesting thought about Johnathon. Whatever gave you that idea? I have to tell you; having written up through chapter thirty-something, writing about them as a group is very difficult. Writing about Jody and Roderic together is difficult. They're just so different, so completely different, that it's taxing to imagine what on earth they would do or say to **_**each other. **_**Half the time I write something in my notebook, and know that I'll completely change it as I type. I'm glad your family enjoyed it! --big smile--**

Clar the Pirate**: School. How ghastly. I feel the same way you do about Joseph, about the shaking prose out of him part at least. 'Scheme' and 'thing' was a long shot. --wince-- Yes, I'm quite bad at inventing a whole slew of characters. Thankfully, I've managed to make them interesting enough (but not too interesting) that no one's complained as of yet. However, I always have that peril. Would you believe that Meriwether was an afterthought? I can't imagine the story without her anymore! I love your analysis. It makes my day. Can't they, indeed. And another vote for Johnathon Samantha. Hum.**

Youngesh/Darth Chocolate**: Backhanded compliments all the way. Thanks for pointing out the typo; you get a shout out after I fix it.**

**A bag of Jolly Rancher © jelly beans for reviewing!**


	30. A Stitch in Time

**25 . 3 . 08**

**I'm back! In a timely fashion! If I keep disappearing, I'm going to have to call myself **Lobuck**... Oh, sorry, were you listening, **Lobuck

**By the by, SHOE is up and running again. (A Soldier at His Own Expense). Read and review! It's based on one of the more lovable characters in Nasap -- the incorrigible Faidn. His mother and father come into play, along with a disturbing and mysterious man, a flighty and germaphobic teen, a garrulous widower, and a strange, fiery headed child. It's definitely worth a read.  
**

**Disclaimer: any subtle hints at a Certain Well Known Fairy Tale were worded by me, and belong to me, but the Certain Fairy Tale does not. Cordelia Albany and Sir (Pendegrast) Elliot belong to **Clar the Pirate

* * *

Victoria told her, reassuringly, "We shall learn all that we need to. Don't panic just yet. It's only begun. Besides, how hard can it be to defeat evil?"

_Trinity -- dreamer303_

* * *

Meriwether was whisked away by her lady-in-waiting within minutes, and after changing clothes, they spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the Brobdingnagian lands surrounding the castle. From garden, to pond, to lea, the landscape's variance overjoyed Meriwether.

"It's so bright and beautiful here!" she exclaimed rapturously, all smiles. "It's so unbearably hot and thick in Terriot; I could never dream of taking a walk. But here, this!"

She spun in a circle with her arms outstretched, and Roderic was struck with a feeling of déjà vu when her feet began to fall into patterns. She laughed and twirled, much to the obvious disapproval of Denise who cleared her throat lightly. For being so tall, it was safe to say that she was not so very light on her feet, and the risible scene did make Roderic smile, albeit stiffly. That nagging thought that she was strikingly similar to Katharine snared his thoughts again.

"Oh Roderic, you are so proper," Meriwether said with a sigh, taking one long step to where his arm was waiting for hers once more. "Don't you ever dance on a whim?"

"No, I do not think I ever have," Roderic replied, but couldn't help an ingratiating smile at her flushed and starry-eyed expression.

By dinnertime, Roderic thought they were getting along quite like siblings. When they joined the men at the table and Meriwether was smiling with a healthy glow in her cheeks, Prince Willnim looked much relieved. He sent Roderic a clear, grateful nod which Roderic returned. He spent most of dinner wondering how he was going to escape directly afterwards without seeming rude to Meriwether.

Regrettably, dinner passed too quickly to contrive a good excuse to leave for a few moments, just enough time for Samantha (who had been lurking near the edges of the room) to step in and deliver his regretful apology. As a result, he found himself face to face with Meriwether in the tea room with nothing to say. _I have never been good at thinking of things on the spot,_ he fretted, but swallowed and said the first courtly thing he could manage.

"I know it is customary to have tea after dinner, but I was hoping you would excuse me. I have a sort of prior engagement."

Her face fell.

"What about? Oh, isn't there any way I could come too? I'll be so dreadfully bored without you," she pleaded.

"It is just something I said I would do, and no; I am sorry, but you cannot come."

She looked suspicious, and Roderic cursed his undoubtedly guilty look.

"Why not?"

_And a curse upon the curiosity of children!_

"You just – cannot," he said lamely. "If you will excuse me, I really must go."

He didn't wait for a reply, but walked smoothly to the door. He could hear Samantha coming in through the servant's entrance and saying something quietly to her, and he broke into a trot. It was a close call, but he did make it to the kitchen by the time the old, decrepit clock clanged six times. The clamorous bells were masked in the after-dinner rush, and Roderic hardly heard them. _Like the shouting of a voice in a crowd, like the discordant life in the midst of the mediocre, striving to be heard, but artfully ignored._

Jody and Joseph were waiting outside the kitchen door, and without even a by-your-leave, Jody thrust a bundle of clothes into his hands.

"Change, quickly, and meet us back out here."

He nodded, and darted back inside. It took several small miracles to keep the servants from realizing that their future ruler was in their midst, though he had a heart-stopping moment with a sooty dish-girl, but she just smiled and nodded her head in the direction of a closet. He gratefully ducked in, wondering who she was. _Do I know her?_ he thought frantically, changing his clothes as fast as he could manage.

They were large, and distinctly ill-fitting, which gave him pause. _Are they on correctly?_ He thought, perplexed, turning around and around in the shaft of light striking him from the slightly cracked door. The cream colored shirt appeared to be right way around, but it billowed most disturbingly, and then clung to his wrists and neck. _That cannot be right._ The green pants were loose, and seemed in danger of falling down if he wasn't careful. Then, he found the fraying string and hazarded a guess that it could be threaded through the loops at the waist of his pants and tied off, neatly.

He shoved his clothes into a bucket, but kept his own black leather boots, turning down the pants to ensure the diamond crusted tops were hidden. After he had taken great pains to be sure that no gold or silk could be seen from the overturned bucket, he left the closet. He blended in much better this time, but the same blonde dish-girl winked at him as he left. He gave her a smile that she laughed at, and ducked out the door.

"Is this right?" he asked, feeling stupid, and distinctly under-dressed. _Even my _pajamas_ are more tailored than this shapeless apparel._

Jody looked him up and down cursorily.

"Yes, you're all in order. Come on. Oh, Joseph, the hat."

The boy, Joseph, nodded and handed him a floppy brown hat that covered all of his hair and most of his face as he sang a reassuring verse.

"_You'll never look the better,_

_As you would in a peasant-made sweater."_

Roderic looked at Jody, then at him.

"Are you alright, boy?"

Joseph grinned magnificently and did a little tango on the spot.

"_Never better,_

_See the sweater?"_ he sang, plucking his quite worn sweater.

Jody looked longsuffering as he beckoned them toward the stables. Joseph stuck close to his side, humming wordlessly and keeping pace with his own beat.

"We're going to town, to see what Joseph's friends know of these groups we have to track down, or someone has to track down. Though, from all his delirious singing, it seems like the authorities have been paid off, or infiltrated."

Roderic considered this as they trekked across neat path leading from the kitchen to the stables. The bright moon shone down on them from its comfortable position in the navy sky, waiting for the first spangles of stars to peer out from their daytime haunts and yawn and stretch their way to brilliance.

"Can you take a horse?" Jody asked shortly, interrupting Roderic's thoughts.

"Yes; I believe Samantha is saying that I am going for a ride, anyway. The one small problem is that I am not dressed at all like a prince, and the stableboy would notice."

Roderic felt fidgety; it felt like something was going to fall off at any moment.

"If he's not there, he won't notice," Jody said cryptically, peering into the stable. "He's there, but not very alert. Joseph and I will distract him. You stay here and don't get into trouble, _please._"

They left him in the bushes by the side of the stable, feeling as if he should feel affronted, but strangely comfortable with the whole affair. It _was_ a delicious feeling not to be in charge. A slight rustling behind him, which would ordinarily have scared him out of his wits, jerked him to think of William in _A Servant's Tale._

_William drew his dagger and turned around._

"_Who is it?" he said aggressively._

_More rustling answered his query._

"_Come out, if you value your head," William said more suspiciously._

_Someone leapt out of the underbrush, screaming like a banshee, and nearly decapitating our poor hero._

Of course, everything had ended well for William, but Roderic was less convinced of a successful translation to real life as he heard the distinct sound of human breathing. Soundlessly, he knelt and, with some difficulty, managed to pull the small dagger from his boot. For the first time, he was thankful that Johnathon had hired a paranoid cobbler.

He stood and followed the sound of light breathing, the small dagger concealed between his arm and torso, and acted as if he was just nestling deepr into the undergrowth. His heart pounded, and he wasn't sure he had the courage to do anything at all, but he mustered his willpower and whirled around, pushing the last branch out of his way. The figure screamed and almost fell back into the bushes. It was Meriwether.

"It's me!" squeaked the frightened girl, throwing her hands up into the air in plea.

Roderic instantly dropped the weapon and extended a hand, which she accepted, and pulled her upright. Much farther upright than he.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, limp with relief.

"Following you. What else?" she said cheerily, brushing the dirt off the back of her skirt. "You acted strange and I had to find out what you were doing. That woman made it hard, though. She must have been in on it, huh? What _are_ you doing, anyway? Surely you don't normally associate with stoic and terrifying men and song-obsessed boys all the time."

"No, I do not. I assure you, I have great reason. You, however, must go back to the palace before you are missed. I promise that I will tell you everything when I return."

"When will that be?" she demanded.

"To—" He hesitated, 'tonight' ready to roll off his tongue, but if what Jody said was true, and the authorities weren't to be trusted, who else could pursue her? _I will have to go,_ he realized. "I do not know," he finally said after a too-long pause.

"You're going _questing!_" she declared triumphantly. "How exciting! I didn't know Rijhadites quested as well; they told me Terriotians and Ellespethians were some of the last to keep the tradition!"

"Keep your voice down!" Roderic said, hushing her, then seized the opportunity. "Yes, I am going questing, of sorts, and _princesses_ do not go on quests. Back to the palace with you, your highness."

"I'm coming!" she cried. "What fun!"

"No—" Roderic started to say, then ducked down as the stableboy came racing out the front door and Jody and Joseph dashed out to where they were hiding.

"That was easier than expected," Jody said, not noticing Meriwether. "Get your horse, and let's go find Katharine."

"Katharine!" Meriwether said, eyes big as saucers.

Jody's dagger was out in an instant and held a scant inch from her throat. She was about to shriek but Roderic gingerly pushed the dagger away with his own, which he had retrieved from the ground when the boy had run from the stable.

"Who's the fusspot?" Jody asked irritably, sheathing his dagger.

Roderic took a moment to sheath his own, safely in his boot, before answering.

"Princess Meriwether of Terriot. She was just heading back inside."

"I was not, and I am _certainly_ not about to now!" Meriwether declared in righteous indignation. "If my cousin is alive I think I'm more than entitled to come find her too."

"But you're a girl. A little girl, at that," Jody said bluntly. "Well, maybe not quite so _little_ as _young._"

"Excuse _me,_" Meriwether said, drawing herself up to full height, one head shorter than Jody. "I'm sixteen years old, and about to get married. I think that should count for something. Although, if Katharine's alive, I should like to know who came up with the hare-brained idea of my marrying _him_ anyhow. That's wrong on too many different levels. I'm coming. You can't make me stay behind because I'll follow you, then if I get killed it's _your_ fault."

"Imperious little snit," Jody said with annoyed distaste, and stooped down to her level. "I don't care who you are, or who you were. From now on, you're Mary, his daughter, and you'll stick to it if you value your life. I wash my hands of your blood, if it is shed. You'll be the next target for this band of maniacs, and any blood is to be on your hands, with the Crown Prince as my witness. All legal? Wonderful. Now if it's all the same to everyone else, I'd like to get Roderic's horse out of the stable before that boy comes back."

"Fair enough," Meriwether said, all smiles again, and trooped after them as they made their way to the stable.

Roderic quickly located his favorite horse and went about awkwardly saddling it until Jody, with a sigh, finished for him in no time at all. He had just led it out of its stall and onto the stone pathway when he heard footsteps. Everyone froze. Roderic held out a hand to get their attention and motioned that they hide in the stalls. Meriwether and Joseph obeyed immediately, but Jody hesitated. Roderic motioned again, urgently, and the man folded himself into a narrow, empty stall. _I actually thought of something when I needed it_, he realized as the boy stepped into the stable. _How curious._

"What do you think you're doing?!" the stableboy shouted as he espied the shadowy figure of Roderic on horseback and began to run toward him.

Oddly, Roderic didn't feel nervous. He knew exactly what he was going to do, and a sense of calm steadied his shaking hands.

"Peace, man," he said quietly. "It is the Prince."

The boy had just reached him, and he instantly dropped to one knee, head bowed in shame.

"My deepest apologies, my Prince. I didn't recognize you in the dark, and mistook you for a peasant. Forgive me."

"It is forgiven already," Roderic replied. "Do me a favor, if you would."

"Anything, my liege."

"Stand by the front door and tell anyone who asks that you did not see me leave."

"Yes, sir," the boy said understandingly, and made his way quickly to the front door.

He was undyingly thankful for the darkness that shrouded his simple clothes; they could have aroused suspicion.

"Thank you," Roderic said in relief, dismounting and leading the horse toward the back door.

After the man was safely turned around, he motioned that the others join him, silently, which they did under the cover of the horse's loud clip-clops against the stone. Roderic pushed the door open with some difficulty and they all slipped through the door before Jody closed it firmly.

They made their way without speaking to the wood, where Majestic was pulling restlessly on his restraints. He tossed his mane with a low whinny as they approached, and Joseph immediately got to work untying him. The only words spoken were muttered by Jody, who said he and Joseph would take Majestic, and Meriwether and Roderic would take his mare: Midnight Duchess. Roderic only noticed Meriwether's loose-fitting cotton dress as he helped her onto his saddle. _She must have taken it from her lady-in-waiting_, he thought.

With a jerk of Jody's head, they rode toward town, the darkening horizon that had so recently housed the sun on their right. Once they had arrived at town, they aimed their mounts through the still-crowded streets for the fountain at the center of town, where the minstrels often gathered.

The troubadours were in their element, entertaining and easing the spirits of the happy and disgruntled alike. _They contribute to the overall happiness of the city, but they are given no credit, _Roderic mused, the soothing strains of a violin duo twirling in his ears. Joseph directed them toward a small ensemble which was in the middle of the Ballad of Shayna, and they dismounted, joining the lingering crowd to hear the last of the song.

The woman held a single iris, its long stem almost halfway down her skirt, as she sang. Every note made the flower quiver slightly, as if in the vibrancy of life.

"_The incomparable beauty,_

_Met her match that day._

_With a cry of despair,_

_She found her voice;_

_But the price,_

_Was too heavy,_

_To bear."_

After most of the people had drifted away, dropping coins into the hats and the instrument cases, Joseph took the singer girl by the elbow and chucked her under the chin.

"_You sing like a flower,_

_Was gifted a voice,_

_Its womanly power,_

_Leaves me with no choice,"_ he sang.

She laughed and pried his fingers loose, then raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't introduce me to your friends," she said, tossing her auburn hair over her shoulder and holding out her hand to Jody. "Maurice," she said.

Jody took her hand, looking like he was afraid to crush it.

"Jody. Roger and Mary," he said, gesturing to Roderic and Meriwether.

Roderic bowed elegantly, and Meriwether curtsied with a flourish. Roderic realized that their facade as normal peasants might well have been undone by the thoughtless reactions, but Maurice paid no mind to their overdone greeting. _Perhaps she has seen far too much of it on the stage,_ Roderic mused.

"Charmed," Maurice replied, slipping her hand out of Jody's and catching someone's violin bow before it hit the ground.

The rest of her troop was beginning to pack up along with the rest of the minstrels around the fountain. Darkness was beginning to take ahold on the city center, making the moon and the stars shine even more brilliantly than before. The last remains of the sun had all but vanished, leaving the skies to its darker cousin.

"What brings you to the most knowledgeable woman in Allearsi?" she asked, leading them away from listening ears. "and I hope you have money to encourage me?"

Jody's expression didn't change, but his eyes flicked to Joseph who, in turn, looked at Maurice. Roderic watched the proceedings worriedly. Maurice grinned and briefly gripped Jody's elbow, her blue eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

"I'm only joking, of course. If Joseph needs information, I'm yours."

She smiled at Joseph, and Meriwether smiled too, glancing at Roderic and leaning toward him.

"Did I look that bad when I smiled at Andrew?" she questioned in an undertone.

"You were radiant as usual," he replied diplomatically, then chuckled, "though quite enraptured."

"I'll bet you looked like a puppy," she said sassily.

Maurice led them down a few twisting passages before they spilled out onto another main street in front of an inn. The inn's sign was swaying lightly for no apparent reason, the engraving of an eagle watching them keenly where they stood on the exposed street. It looked like a shady place, Roderic noted, but troubadours hardly stayed in mansions, did they?

Even so, it had a fell air about it that Roderic was not altogether comfortable with. Maurice noticed his hesitation and beckoned him in, already halfway through the door with the eager Joseph by her side and Jody already inside.

"Come on, then," she said cheerily, waving her hand at the two that remained.

Meriwether also looked uncomfortable with the affair, but Roderic took her arm and a deep breath, then followed her into the building.

* * *

**Final word count: 3168**

**Another side character! When will Billi ever tire of them? Do any of them mean anything to the plot? What fairy tale did she reference? Why on earth does she keep dragging Shayna into every possible story? I'm full of unanswerable questions, aren't I? What did you think, though, truly? How is Meriwether developing? The Jody/Roderic situation: is that doing well?**

Mazkeraide**: Och. Life is overwhelming at times. I like using big words too, but usually only if I can put them in nicely. I really wanted to use 'Brobdingnagian' in the last chapter, but I realized there was no possible way to put it in easily. --sigh-- Isn't it terrible? My rhyming 'skills' are intense-**_**ly un**_**skillful. I'm glad they're not causing you physical pain, at least. --chuckle-- Ah ,the latter scenario would seem more likely. Yes. Roderic would most definitely analyze why he was getting beaten up AS he was getting beaten up.**

Crayola Color Sky**: Well, I did the same thing with Adelaide – **Captain** used the name for 'With Time' after I'd already starting writing about MY Adelaide. Inter-story twins? --laugh!-- Stunning! Touching! Thank you; I'm glad it came off that way. --sigh of relief--**

ElvishKiwi**: Uncomfortable, yet sweet. Excellent description. Good eye, for that line. To be honest though, I didn't give it much thought when I was writing, but now that you mention it, it's very true. The characters develop when I'm not looking: heavens to marmalade! Oh well. They come out alright. --grin-- Katharine has taught him a lot; a lot that he desperately needed to be the king he has to be, and face these terrible situations. A year ago, he'd be sweating and gnawing his lip and running to Johnathon like a security blanket. Now, he knows he can trust his own judgment, at least to a point (or, at the very least, he second-guesses himself less.) So much speculation. You shall see, you shall see. Hey, it's not her fault she's taller. Uncle, (King Gollath) Father, (Willnim) and cousin (Crown Prince Everard). Almost as bad as Tolkein?! You really want me to have a swelled head, don't you? I'm nowhere near his brilliance. **

**Oh dear. You see, this is the problem with the internet; I promise I have a map all drawn out. It's clumsy and awkward, as I'm no artist, and even less a cartographer, but I have it for reference. You poor people, on the other hand, do not. All those are countries. Think of a kite. No, no; draw a kite. The basic outline for one, anyway. It's very hard to imagine this without a concrete image in front of you. Rotate it 90 degrees clockwise. Berensia is where Nasap is set, and it's on the west coast – the bottom of the kite. Ellespeth is the eastern-most country – the top of the kite. (where Cam and Nre were sent to by Karl, remember?) Southwest of Ellespeth is Terriot, and southwest of Terriot is Rijhad. Philettin is north of Rijhad and East of Terriot – in the middle of the kite. The rest of them; Molln is southeast of Berensia; Faidn and Carvin lived in a town almost on the border between the two countries. Acine is northwest of Ellespeth, also bordering the sea. Werinith is almost due north of Philettin, on the northern coast. I hope that made sense. You asked for it. --grin-- **

**Comforting hugs are o-so-wonderful. Well, you notice a lot of things that most other people don't. You discuss it for hours?! I'm very self-conscious now. --gulp-- I'm glad I haven't been found wanting – yet. I agree; reading it out loud makes you notice more. You've nailed the predicament precisely. When I started, I had every intention of Jody and Roderic getting along fairly well, but it turns out that Jody doesn't like him! Or, rather, he really just has no respect for him, because he views him a wuss. Writing Jody disgruntled is a strange thing to do, and writing Roderic not knowing what to do, yet doing things anyway – well, that's normal. But it gets better. Yes, and look at this reply. You've made me go and get longwinded **_**again. **_**I'm sure you all have enough of my verbosity **_**during **_**the chapters.**

silliana**: It's weird. Really, it is. Ah, yes, she did know. See, this line here: **

"_I dreamt about the two of you,' he explained, hoping she knew of his dreams._

_Evidently she had, because the confusion slid off her face and her small mouth formed an O._

**My spellcheck doesn't either. I ignore it, whether rightfully so, or not, I'm not sure. She's a hard character to nail down. Oh, I hope it comes back alive again. Jolly Rancher jelly beans are some of my most favorite things to have at Easter. **_**Love**_** them. Here, have some. --hands over a big bag--**

littlema**: Thanks for reviewing! I try to make my characters varied and interesting; I'm glad it's showing through. Another Johnathon/Samantha. Well. It **_**must**_** be a good idea if so many people like it. Keep sleuthing; follow your instincts. Oh good; Jody and Celeste are supposed to act like old friends. Whew! I'm glad I pulled it off. That first chapter was something else, I'm telling you what. I'm glad it didn't throw you off, because it was very confusing. --grin-- I hope this wasn't TOO long in coming!**

Bingo7**: Humph. Well. It's unusual and strange when the ladies are taller than the men, and it never seems to work out, does it? I knew a tall lady who went out with a short fellow, but they broke up. Now she's affianced to someone taller than she is, by a scant inch or two. --laugh-- I'm glad she's grown on you. She's one of those people that's hard to dislike. Like Mara Leigh. **

Darth Chocolate**: Yeah, they sort of have the same problem, except that Andrew is alive. I'm still figuring if that's a good thing or not. I mean, it's **_**good**_** in that he's not **_**dead,**_** but would it really be any easier for Meriwether if he's alive? It's like a constant torture, to know that your loved one is alive and you can't be with him! At least Roderic can comfort himself in the fact that Katharine isn't alive. Sorry, I'm ranting again. Joseph is the most mysterious? He's so funny! Don't take him too seriously. Just have fun with him.**

Pixel Fairy**: Thanks for reviewing! I really appreciate it. And thanks for the faves too! Intriguing? I like the sound of that. I'm glad I've kept it at least somewhat lighthearted, too. Having all this serious stuff all the time would be no fun whatsoever. It would be more like a soap opera than it already is. --groan-- I like Roderic too, though I couldn't stand him at the beginning. No lie, I hated him. It was bad. Once he finally got a personality, though, it's been a fun ride. He is starting to step away from the crowd, too, which is a good quality in a king! As for Katharine, Joseph, Jody, and Celeste, well, you'll have to wait and see.**

Clar the Pirate**: Nice male Katharine. Huh. Interesting description. You have a habit of tweaking Cadmus' nose, and I like it; it keeps him **_**awake.**_** It does make sense. Roderic is growing up, isn't he? He really learned a lot from Katharine, and mostly good things, too. Meriwether is a darling. I really love her. She adds such a different level to this grown-up world, and I love it. Do I take that exclamation to mean that you want Joseph and Samantha? I've heard so many different things about Samantha; some people love that she's acting nice again, you think she's suspect. Hm.**

daring2dream**: Joseph is kind of annoying to **_**write! **_**Meriwether is sixteen. Ha, you're right; Roderic and Jody should even each other out fairly well, if Jody will let it happen. I'm glad my little story is growing on you. --smile!--**

Tall One**: You actually felt a pain? That's a compliment! Wow! Unless you were being sarcastic. Hum.**

FaylinnNorse**: You may read it, eventually. It really could have been life-threateningly awkward, but Meriwether is hard to be awkward around for very long. She has a tendency to say what's on her mind with or without permission. Ship away, dear Faylinn, ship away. Interesting offset is a nice way of putting it. --cough--**

Ellsbetta**: Ah, yes. --waggles finger at nothing whilst pacing and rubbing chin-- It probably should have been, shouldn't it? It switched perspectives, though, which was what made me put it in the next chapter. Didn't even think of the continuity gap, which really should have been one of the first things to come to mind. Thank you. I'm not sure how I could fix it, but thank you all the same. I'll keep it in mind in case Cadmus strikes on inspiration. Touching is good. Yes, the story seems, for the moment, to be settling in on Rod and Katty, but never fear. Jody and Celeste are not to be forgotten. No, they never were meant to be the side characters. In all honesty, they're actually the pair I thought of first. Although, Jody was named Roger at the time. After I dreamt up Roderic, however, Roger and Roderic would have been a terrible idea. I tip my hat to it here, since Roderic is being known as Roger for the time being.**

**If you can figure out which fairy tale I vaguely (and I mean **_**vaguely**_**) reference, you get a case of Cadbury eggs ©. **ElvishKiwiClar the Pirate**, or **EVA**, if it's you, you won't want ****our**** Cadbury eggs anyway, so I'll give you a coupon to get the NZ ones.**

**For the rest of you: _if you review_, I'll give you a chocolate bunny. (Hollow or solid, whichever you prefer.)**


	31. Conundrum

**1 . 4 . 08**

**I know it's short. Bear with me here. --smile-- And hey, I'm back in a week, so you can't complain TOO much, anyway.**

* * *

"_Sometimes when you face death, that's when you realize something."_

"_What's that, William?" his voice said softly, rippling through the night._

"_You realize that sometimes, you just can't win."_

_The boy woke up with the sound of the clanging funeral bell ringing in his ears._

From the Trees –Leonod Fidoglio

* * *

The door swung open as Roderic pushed it, creaking slightly. His eyes took in the scene with a mounting internal tension. Maurice flagged down a waitress who ushered them to a table in the corner, Jody and Meriwether followed, and Joseph brought up the rear. Roderic hung back, flickering his eyes around the inn. Something wasn't right. Something wasn't right at all, and though he didn't often trust his gut, he had a feeling now wouldn't be a good time to argue.

Everyone at the bar turned to look at him momentarily before returning to their drinks with muted whispers. No music filled the mostly silent room. Maurice was waving at him.

"Roger! Come on! Why are you skulking by the door?"

"My apologies," he stuttered, trotting to the table.

He felt eyes following him. Jody, he could tell, noticed. Meriwether did too, her face pale and her hands gripping the table tightly. Joseph seemed blissfully unaware, as did Maurice.

"Don't mind them, they're a tough crowd," she whispered to Roderic when he got closer.

He pulled a chair out; it made the loudest noise in the room.

"Isn't there somewhere we can go that we could blend in more?" Jody asked in an undertone.

Maurice cocked her head.

"Why?"

Meriwether seized Roderic's hand and shot him a nervous glance.

"Joseph," Jody said, calmly, despite his apparent worry, "please convince your girlfriend to find somewhere else to chat."

"_This place is,_

_The best there is,"_ he insisted.

"Roderic!" Meriwether shrieked, pulling his arm nearly out of his socket and displacing his chair by a foot.

A knife cut through the air where he had just been, and he yelped his alarm, fumbling for the dagger in his boot. Jody jumped to his feet, pulling out his own dagger, but was met by Joseph and Maurice, both armed. Meriwether screamed and dove under the table as a man behind them started toward her, swinging a knife expertly and leaving his beer on the counter. The man who had originally attacked Roderic met his dagger with ringing steel. The man dragged Meriwether from under the table with little difficulty.

Jody, who looked like he had been contemplating knocking Maurice and Joseph's heads together, was surrounded by men, most of them with proper swords.

"Tricked, by the crazy boy," Jody spat disgustedly. "I should have known."

Meriwether whimpered. The man deftly pressed his knife to her throat. Roderic, who was no slouch at fencing, tried to surprise his opponent with a quick feint and attack, but his dagger was sent flying in seconds.

"Where is Katharine?" Roderic asked boldly, knowing with a bolt of fear that these hard-eyed villains were the same that had kidnapped his wife.

"Dead," the one in front of him grunted. "She's waiting for you before she makes her public appearance. I'm sure she'd be thrilled to know that her lovely cousin would join her in the everworld too. What a touching reunion."

And then, without any of the pomp or pleading, suspense or sniveling, caterwauling or contending, every one of the attackers moved at the same time, and three bodies crashed to the floor.

A black haired woman pushed up her hood and sheathed her unbloodied sword, her expression neutral. She walked over to where Roderic lay on the brink of death and knelt beside him with a vacant smile.

"It didn't have to be that way, you know," she said softly, curling her fingers around his hair, which had spilled out from under his hat when he fell.

His eyes widened, and he choked, then stopped breathing.

* * *

**Oh come on. You didn't ACTUALLY believe that, did you?**

**Happy April Fool's Day.**


	32. Breakfast Time

**5 . 4 . 08**

**Ha. I hope you all enjoyed your April Fool's Day joke. I couldn't resist.**

**In response to almost everyone's incredulity; Maurice is a boy's name. Yes, I thought it was a girl's name too until I looked it up. Now, however, I'm attached to it. Sorry for the confusion, but Maurice will remain. Thank you, **CS**, especially, for pointing out different spellings to make it feminine. I'm sentimental, though. I really like it how it is. I'll probably change it on the re-write.**

**Oh, the fairy tale vaguely referenced was Cinderella. Congratulations to those who guessed it.**

**Disclaimer: Cordelia Albany and Sir (Pendegrast) Elliot belong to **Clar the Pirate**. The Pen **_**is **_**mightier than the sword. --chuckle--**

**WARNING: This chapter is rated T.**

* * *

_"So," I said. "This Rochelle was going to do what?" _

_"Kill you," said Nereida calmly._

_Nice._

_"She's tried several times already."_

_Even better._

The Mermaid's Daughter --Ana Cardic

* * *

All Roderic's doubts appeared to be unfounded as they entered the scruffy inn. It looked like any other small inn, with a bar off to the side, people cheerily complimenting the food, and a large dance floor. A few violinists were providing some upbeat dancing music, but no one was dancing yet.

"So, what trouble have you gotten yourself into this time, 'seph?" Maurice asked, sitting down immediately at an empty table.

Roderic had a sneaking suspicion that one of the smiling waitresses had saved it for her.

"_What have you heard,_

_Of the flight of the bird?_" Joseph sang softly, leaning closer to her to ensure that he was heard above the noise in the rest of the room.

Maurice's smile faded a little.

"Joseph, I don't think the bird is who you think it is. Have you brought them into this too?" she gestured at the three others.

Joseph sang something agitatedly that they couldn't catch and Maurice returned with a heated comment of her own. Meriwether's eyes kept wandering around to the rest of the people in the inn, staring openly. It was mostly filled with younger people: singers and dancers with their male counterparts whirling and laughing around the floor in an impromptu, and unconventional, sort of dance. Suspicious eyes were everywhere. Roderic noticed this with some alarm, and tapped Meriwether's arm.

"Do not stare," he said quietly. "You will draw unwanted attention."

"Sorry," she murmured quickly, looking back to the arguing pair.

Joseph must have won, because Maurice turned to them with a sigh.

"I'll tell you what I've heard about the bird, but I don't personally think it's Katharine. My vote is on Cordelia Albany, the girl who set her house on fire? Disappeared after that, in a clever combination of kidnapping and running away, to avoid her parents' watchful eye. Heard Sir Elliot's looking for her too, though, and he has a home here so she could be in town. I think she fancies him."

"She does?" Roderic said, before he could stop himself.

He remembered Cordelia, vaguely, from a ball several years back. He remembered thinking she was very pretty, if you liked the stubborn type. She proved interesting in conversation, however, and didn't strike him as one to "fancy" anyone until she was practically a dowager. _She fancies Pendegrast? The severely disciplined militant? How marvelously strange._

"I think so," Maurice replied, giving him a strange look.

* * *

Jody used the time-worn trick of nudging his foot. _Just be quiet, _he willed the prince to understand. He didn't hold any particular animosity toward the prince, as much as a lack of respect for the man that the prince so happened to be. He was vacillating and unsure, already Jody's two greatest peeves in men, and the fool was lovestruck to boot. Their relationship was not destined to be a quick camaraderie. His nervous look signified an excrescence as degrading as any physical handicap.

Roderic didn't speak again for the remainder of the evening.

"When did you first hear talk of the bird?" Jody asked.

"After the prince left for war is when I first heard about her," she said, shaking her hair out of her blue eyes. "That's part of the reason why I don't think it's Katharine. Why mention someone who you don't even have yet? Besides, many new things were talked about that day. A lot of rumors about his funny behavior the day he left. Some people think he ordered her to be killed."

Jody could sense Roderic stiffening, but the man kept silent and Jody didn't chance a look at his face. The girl was further around the circular table, and the outrage on her features was immediately perceptible. Joseph nodded understandingly. Maurice was still talking, and didn't notice the change in some members of her audience.

"Couldn't say as I'd blame him. I actually think it makes the most sense. I know, I know, treason, right? But hey, the authorities are dirty, so they say, so it doesn't really matter anyway. Everyone says Katharine is downright unpleasant, and he's such a nervous thing. Well, was, I've heard he– but you're not hear to gossip about the prince's personality. My apologies. He's always intrigued me, and I could talk about him for hours.

Jody could imagine the stunned expression on Roderic's face and almost smiled.

"The first I heard of the bird was some woman telling a man she'd pick up the bird, that she would blend in better than he. Other people tell me a strange woman has been seen, heavily cloaked and walking alone. That's been happening for two weeks before the Prince left: about the time Cordelia arrived, so I hear. From the more dug-in spies, I've heard that a certain group of people have been arguing about the bird. What to do with her, mostly. Soon after that talk lulled, I heard that Cordelia left town. That's another point for Cordelia. And, listen to this, half of the group don't even call her the bird. They call her... the prize... or something like that. Two different names. Two different girls? Maybe they had both Katharine and Cordelia?"

"Maybe two different groups," Jody suggested.

That much Joseph had told him, he remembered, though it was difficult to keep everything straight. Maurice looked like she had just found out she was getting married. Her eyes lit up and she whooped, making Joseph grin.

"Brilliant! Yes, why didn't I think of that before. The spies said it was one group, but they might be working together? Or have double agents? Two different leaders, two different names for Cordelia... this poor woman might be in more trouble than she anticipated."

"Any idea what sort of people we're talking about that are in these groups?" Jody asked.

Maurice shrugged.

"No idea. They never said. I usually get my information from sources with larger ears and more tolerance for strong drink, and those types aren't exactly the brightest." She tapped her forehead, then turned unexpectedly to the bar. "Ay! Eggtooth!"

"Nightingale!" a man said cheerily, craning his neck to see past the undulating figures.

When he finally located Maurice, he heaved his tankard off the counter and sat down in an empty seat on the other side of Maurice, next to Meriwether. The mug, which was the size of Jody's head, made a solid noise as it came to rest on the table, half empty, with the rest of the contents swishing around inside. He took a long drink – much to Meriwether's interest as she tried to get a good look at the liquid. Roderic put a warning hand on her arm and she feigned innocence. Jody almost rolled his eyes.

_She's going to get herself into trouble,_ he predicted

"Wanta hear the latest on birdie, I warrant?" he asked gruffly, and the reason for his moniker was suddenly evident.

His teeth were almost all chipped, giving the appearance that he had a mouth full of eggshells. He saw Meriwether wrinkle her nose and Roderic give her another sharp squeeze. She looked sideways at him, as if to say, _And? His teeth are horrid!_ Roderic looked pointedly back at Eggtooth, who was beginning to speak. Jody hadn't realized he had let himself be distracted and quickly paid attention again.

"—people? Everyone! You know that. The puzzle is weighing on everyone's mind, as something to pass the time."

"No, no," Maurice said, gesturing dismissively, as if to brush away his apparent misinterpretation of her question. "What sorts of people are in the groups you've heard from?"

"Oh, them," Eggtooth said, taking a long draft. "All sorts. Mainly merchants and traders, not surprising. A few women, maybe the wives."

"What do you know about the people who tried to kill the princess?" Jody asked carefully.

"Wasn't any 'tried to' about it," Eggtooth said grimly, "no matter what they say. Did a messy job of it. And didn't I just say? Traders and merchants. Not the best lot, and none of them are real well known. No names. Someone reported them to the police earlier today and they skipped town, and good riddance to them. The police didn't catch them, not surprising. They've got the police on their side, but they had to make a show of it, you know."

"This man's got an interesting theory. What if there were two groups?"

It took Eggtooth several minutes to process this information as he gulped from his tankard. The barmaid had just refilled it when he brightened.

"That could make sense, I s'pose, but it makes things more complicated," he admitted. "Why'd there be two? Cordelia's a pretty wench, but not _that_ pretty."

"That aside," Jody said quickly before Maurice could criticize their opinion again, "if there were two, did they all leave, or is one of the groups still hanging around, do you think?"

"Well if there were two groups, that would explain why the leader was limping. Maybe they got in a fight?"

"Limping?" Jody prodded.

"Yeah, bandaged up on his right leg. He was in here drinking this morning trying to dull the pain. Probably knew he was going to have to travel on it. I offered to stitch it up for him, but he said he trusted his own skin to heal itself like it was already."

He huffed into his tankard and took another drink.

"And Birdie? Is she still here somewhere?" Jody asked.

Maurice and Eggtooth both shook their heads.

"Caught a ride with them, most likely."

"Or was kidnapped," Eggtooth added. "She was _that_ pretty."

"She's too smart for that," Maurice argued.

Eggtooth shook his head doubtfully.

"She's a woman..."

"And I am...?" Maurice said, without a hint of anger.

"Maurice," Eggtooth said promptly, smiling.

She rolled her eyes.

"Anyway," Jody said, unwilling to let the conversation slide before he got his answers. "Could you recognize the group, or groups, if you saw them?"

"No," Eggtooth said, "but I could tell you who seemed to be in charge most of the time. The more I think about it, the more your theory doesn't make sense. There were most of the same people at both meetings I think, but at some of them the leader was there, and some of them they all seemed to just know what to do. The leader made himself scarce. Maybe didn't want to get caught?"

Jody's brain hurt. Everything was just too complicated. A sneaked glance at Roderic showed that he was thinking hard.

"I don't know. It was just a theory," Jody conceded, looking at Joseph, who was looking at Maurice. _Fool. _"But if we're trying to find Birdie, follow the men who left town?"

"That'd be your best bet. Ask that man over there. Hearsay is one of them tricked him in a trade and he's tracking them," Eggtooth replied, throwing his thumb toward a jolly-faced man talking to some others.

"Thank you," Jody said, standing and making his way over to the man.

The first minute of conversation was enough to prove the man didn't have all of his wits about him. He spent another ten minutes coaxing the information he wanted out of the man, holding down his irritation almost subconsciously. It became apparent that the man was a braggart, and he wasn't going to track them down, but he did know where they were going. He seemed to think Jody was part of the police, and it took a great deal of persuading to convince him otherwise.

"They're going to Bethes," Jody told the table at large, which now did not include Eggtooth, as he had left while Jody was talking.

Maurice, who had been smiling and whispering with Joseph, looked up.

"That's just a day south of here," she supplied.

Roderic and Meriwether both looked at him thoughtfully. Meriwether looked excited, Roderic looked strangely determined.

"I told some friends I'd meet them across town, are you okay to find your way home from here?" Maurice asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Jody said absently.

She smiled at him.

"Good luck, you four," she said, kissing Joseph on the cheek.

The tinctumutation was obvious even before her lips had completely left his cheek. Meriwether giggled and Joseph blushed harder, avoiding their eyes. She called out to a few more people, then let herself out the creaky door. Jody sat down and all levity was abolished. They locked eyes. Somehow, even though most of them hardly knew each other, they all knew they were thinking the same thing.

"You wanna do this?" Jody's question was directed at Roderic.

"Yes," he said, firmly.

"You sure?" Jody said.

"Absolutely not. Let us go before I regain my sanity."

Jody saw the look in his eye, the unfamiliar look of a man who is willing to do anything it takes to grasp the hope of seeing his love again. The expression set him back a few paces. Maybe had been thinking of Roderic all wrong.

_Wouldn't Celeste have a heyday teasing me about that?_ he thought, but quickly thought about something else. Celeste was the last thing he needed to think about now.

The rest of the evening flew by. They checked in at the inn, panicked when they realized they'd left their horses, relaxed when they realized Maurice had them stabled at the inn, bought another change of clothes for Roderic and Meriwether, (the other two already had a change of clothes) found a map and decided which road to travel on, and finally rolled into bed at some hour of the early morning. Most of them fell straight into sleep, knowing that they would have a long day ahead of them.

* * *

Roderic laid down on the hard bed and closed his eyes. Sleep was long in coming, and fretful when it did. It was a gifted raconteur, capturing him in the thread of a story and weaving it into something else while he hung on. Flashes of anxious faces, yells, and laughter streamed through his mind. He was unable to decipher dreams from reality anymore, and at that point, he began to dream.

Everything was dark. It wasn't just a dark that pressed in on the eyes, it was a dark that tried to squirm in your mouth and your ears, invading every sense and repressing life. It was a dark that made even people normally unafraid of the lack of light squirm and fumble to strike a match. In this dark, though it tried to deaden his sense of hearing, Roderic could hear a panicked breathing, no, a panicked sobbing. Someone was here, too, and the darkness was taking its toll. For several minutes, Roderic just listened to her whimpers and sobs – it was a she, he could tell, and he had a sickening feeling that he might know who it was – completely powerless to do anything about it.

After an eternity, barely audible footsteps pricked his almost lifeless sense of hearing. A door opened somewhere, and light shone through. With the light came life back in his senses. The darkness darted away, stretching long talons toward the sobbing woman until they were forced back as the lantern drew closer. Her face was hidden by her rank and matted hair, but Roderic didn't need to see the face to recognize her shape. It was Katharine, without a doubt. Four thick pieces of cingular steel bound her arms, palms up, to the stained arms of the stiff wooden chair. Her legs were doubtless captured the same way, hidden beneath the torn nightdress.

"Has the darkness worn you through, yet, Princess?" the man asked in a throaty hiss.

Katharine tried to curl up more, looking disgustingly like a filthy, cowed child.

"Then the time has come for the preparation," he said, a hint of pleasure in his voice.

He set the lantern down on the dirt floor and pulled a small knife from its sheath on his belt. At the ring of metal, Katharine's head jerked up. Her eyes were red-rimmed and terribly bloodshot, contrasting hideously to her complexion, which was uncommonly pale. Roderic barely saw wet tears running down her cheeks before the man moved toward her, kneeling next to the arm of the chair.

"This won't hurt too much. Leastways, not after we kill you," the man said with a chuckle, then knelt over her arm, blocking it from Roderic's view.

Katharine shrieked and tried to squirm away.

"Stop it! Stop, please stop! I'll give you anything you want! Anything!" she begged.

"We want your blood, all of it," the man whispered, his arm moving, obviously cutting, but carefully.

She continued to yell and scream and plead, but nothing deterred him. When he had finished her right arm, he stood and moved to the left. She was just whimpering now, occasionally twitching or yelping at the residual pain in her freely bleeding right arm. He had cut strange symbols into her arm. Driblets of blood flowed around her arm and plunked into a metal pan waiting beneath the arm of the chair. Roderic wanted to throw up. When the man dug the point into her left arm, she screamed again, and fresh tears began to fall onto her nightdress. She stretched her head to see the damage done to her right arm, probably to avoid looking at the left, and the man yanked her hair with a bloodied hand, jerking her head back.

"Don't go contaminating the blood with your cowardly tears," the man sneered, running a finger along her cheekbone and leaving a trail of her own blood behind.

This arm was done in less time than the other, but with more screaming on Katharine's part. He then stood and wiped the blade on her skirt, cleaning it.

"And now, my favorite part," he said, toying the clean knife around her half-bared shoulder.

She shuddered and and stared, terrified, at him, trying to move her shoulder out from under the blade. He ran the lethal tip over her shoulder, and in curlicues across her collarbone, coming to rest at her heaving neck, in the small hollow at its base. Katharine pressed herself against the back of the chair, trying, now, not even to breathe. He poked the tip experimentally, and her cry was coupled with a bead of blood that trickled down her neck.

"You're a soft one," he murmured, and Katharine whimpered her last.

* * *

Roderic woke up, tumbling off the bed and onto Joseph, who awoke with a burst of song.

"Katharine, Katharine," he said feverishly, blinking at his brightly lit surroundings.

Sunlight peeked in the windows. Meriwether was sitting bolt upright in her bed, staring at him fearfully, with eyes full of sleep and tangled, flyaway hair. Jody observed them all, fully dressed, from his position in the door.

"Morning, lover boy."

* * *

**Final word count: 3115**

**No, not April Fool's. What did you think of everyone? Roderic? Jody? Meri? Joseph? Maurice? Eggtooth?**

Darth Chocolate**: Meriwether is certainly precocious! "semi-something friends" is a lovely way to describe them. They're a motley crew. I seem to have developed a thing for motley crews. They work so well together! Ah, alas, it is not Little Mermaid. Excellent guess, though. It didn't even occur to me until you mentioned it. How clever of you. Samantha's always a wild card.**

Crayola Color Sky**: Hey, I like excited! Excited reviewers leave lots of wonderful retrospective/introspective/speculative remarks that tickle me pink. Of course, sometimes you must deal with the ill-placed 1 in a string of exclamation points, or the ocsional mysterius mising lettes!!1! --teasing smile-- But nevermind; surely you are above such things. Meriwether is a doll. --hugs-- I've heard that hollow chocolate bunnies are good if you fill them with milk and eat and drink at the same time. --shrug-- My family always did solid, so I don't know.**

silliana**: ****I'm glad you liked the chapter! Meriwether makes sense? Well. That's something, anyway. --smile--**

Mazkeraide**: Heh, his boots are just rich. He doesn't really care that much about his appearance, all things considered. He wants to look nice, and as such he tends to worry and stress rather than give it serious, analytical thought like women would tend to do. Correctamundo! Cinderella it was. --hands over a bag of Cadbury eggs-- Meriwether is so cute. She so different from Katharine too! What a family, indeed. Oh no! Not her own story. Cadmus, stop sketching! --grin--**

Ellsbetta**: I don't think it would take a rocket scientist to realize that you don't like Meri. --nervous chuckle-- Celeste and Mara Leigh are coming back soon. Worry not!**

Captain**: Catching up is aggravating. Selfishly, I'm glad you did, though. --grin-- My story doesn't compare to yours, but I'm glad it doesn't bore you. Meri did have a lot of interactions, didn't she? She's Katharine's cousin. Her father's brother's daughter.**

Celestial Seraphim**: Wow, Meri is a love/hate character, and more than a few people are on both sides of her. I'm glad you adore her, though. I like her too. She is hysterical. She's so immature, it's amusing. Now, if I was in the situation, she would annoy me. --laugh-- Jody and Roderic just... are. As you said. They're complicated. Cinderella, yes. --hands over the Cadbury eggs-- I couldn't help myself. Yes, Meri meant in the dream; she was asking if she looked at Andrew all ga-ga-like. **

FaylinnNorse**: What a delightful description of the hollow bunny. I might have to use that whenever someone starts extolling the virtues of a hollow bunny. I wonder – do they cost the same amount of money for the same size? If so, that would be a rip-off. If it's price per ounce is the same, then maybe that would be alright. Hm... Oh, sorry. Back to your review. Haha! I never knew you did that. That's funny! Well, you got your chapter 30 up lickety split. So, if I update faster, then YOU'LL update faster, and I can see what happens to Xavia... just kidding, of course. I won't manipulate you. Like I could, anyway. Cadmus is such a boar. Brobdingnagion just means gargantuan – it could describe anything. Hey! I resent that! I do NOT stick words in just to confuse people. --huffy glare-- I'm trying to improve people's vocabula****ry, and simultaneously making your family dictionary worth the 20-30 you paid for it. New words are good for you. --crunch-- Lea: Noun. "****a tract of open ground, esp. grassland; meadow. ****" (quoted from dictionary dot com) All their clothes are crazy. --shakes head at them-- Meriwether is so typical. Such a cutie. --grin--**

**Jody, after mostly losing his flaming temper, has become rather calm, hasn't he? And he takes charge with ease, making everything work. He's a lifesaver. If the group didn't have him, they wouldn't get far. --laugh!-- Roderic is puppy-like! I knew that, but I hadn't thought of it like that, for some reason. He's loyal to the core, and would follow her around making her life as wonderful as possible to the end of their days (of course, before she gets herself kidnapped/murdered) even if she never loved him. --scratches Rod behind the ears and earns an incredulous look-- Ah, yes. Question. WHAT?! I have skill for that!? That's one of my favorite talents that other people have, and I never even thought of dreaming that anyone would say that about me. Wow. You made my day. Shayna was there in "The Ballad of Shayna" in which you got to hear a snippet of her story. It does sound rather Mermaid-ish, doesn't it? Hum. But, no. That's Shayna.**

ElvishKiwis Venerated Ancestor**: The driveway? I'm not sure whether to be nervous or flattered. A healthy combination of both will probably do the trick. What did you all think of the April Fool's chapter? The lack of reviews makes me wonder. Wow, you found more clues to that than I put in there, but yes, it is Cinderella. --hands over Cadbury eggs-- I only intentionally referenced the sooty dish girl. The rest plays in nicely, now that you mention it. Hm, maybe I should hush and pretend I did that all on purpose. --grin-- Eek, least favorite? Yes, I see where you're coming from, but Roderic wanted to protect her. He didn't want to raise her hopes, only to have them possibly dashed later. He didn't anticipate that she wouldn't be so easily deterred. She is both a young, broken-hearted woman, and a little girl who doesn't know her way around the grown-up world. Although you didn't like it, that was the aim. --half smile-- I hope some of his irritation is explained in this chapter? He was being unreasonable about Roderic, basing his thoughts on assumptions. --shakes finger-- Naughty Jody. Joseph was just the straw that broke the camel's back most of the time. Top three. That **_**is**_** impressive.**

Clar the Pirate**: Buck up; you weren't the very last. --grin-- Oh, did it? That wasn't intentional. And, you do know, it is much easier to make something **_**sound **_**dramatic than to actually **_**make**_** it dramatic. If I ever reach a venerable old age, and have run out of things to write, I might attempt it. Until then... the adventures of William will continued to be referenced but never shown. Will that aggravate you? --irritating smile-- She's good at bursting. --laugh-- Ah, no, Tolkein! I never thought of that! It **_**is**_** a good thing, then, that I invented Meriwether. Her character was actually born out of a single line that **Tall One** gave me. If not for her, Meriwether would be hardly there, and definitely not this bright, animated character we see today. Strange to think about. Och! All these differing opinions about all my characters are so terribly confusing! You do like Meriwether, and you liked Jody grumpy. Ah, yes; he gave in to Meriwether because he's less stubborn now than before, and he realized that he probably wouldn't win. And, they were running out of time. He's learned a bit of common sense through the story, and it was easier to make her swear that it was **_**her**_** fault if something happened than to convince her to stay behind. I took your advice, as you saw – I had plum forgotten that we hadn't heard from poor Jody in a while. When you analyze my lines, I do feel perhaps more important than I actually should. --embarrassed smile-- You should get extra credit in your English class. That was a good bit of observation. Oh yes, sorry about that disclaiming mistake – I originally thought I'd have the first half of this chapter tacked on the end of the last one before I realized that would be far too long. By then, I'd forgotten that I'd already written the disclaimer. They're in this one, though! What do you think of the Cordelia's involvement? Cinderella, good. --hands over Cadbury Eg****gs—****Allerleirauh****? I'm**** not familiar with that one. I'll have to look it up.**

daring2dream**: Meri is rather stubborn, like Katharine (good observation), and she is so young compared to the rest of them. Well, except maybe Joseph, but he's seen so much of the world already, even though he's only 19/20 or so. Without her, they'd all serious-ify them selves to an early grave! Or they'd kill Joseph. Heh. Roddy IS growing up; isn't it weird?! Respect between Rod and Jody seems to be more or less on its way, as long as Jody remembers that weaklings are people too. --grin-- Yeah, Rod and Meri are so cute together, aren't they? It's kinda cool that they just clicked like that. I didn't really plan it like that, but when I put them together, that's what happened! I liked that little exchange, too. It made me chuckle a little. Ah, the difference in clothes is something I liked as well. It was fun to describe. Do you know, it's so hard to make it through the story being properly observant when you're looking through the eyes of clueless men? **_**Especially**_** when it comes to clothing. Ugh! But I sneaked it in there. --grin-- Brobdingnagian is by far one of my favorite words! I'm glad it gave you a better sense of the palace grounds; believe it or not, big words are really good at that. --smile-- That's why I like them. They make you think. I like long-winded reviews!**

SIMBA**: Of course I'll finish... (eventually). --wink-- Soon, I promise. Very soon. Within a year? --dodges punches--**

**APRIL FOOL'S REVIEWS:**

Bingo7**: Aren't I? Being evil is fun.**

Ellsbeta**: I like believable. Creepy, though...**

silliana**: I couldn't help myself. Being evil is a hobby. And that **_**is **_**the worst April Fool's joke I've ever heard of! Good gravy! Merci!**

Darth Chocolate**: Pepper in the salt, salt in the sugar, sprayer on the faucet... no, see, those aren't grand enough for Billi.**

daring2dream**: Only for a minute? --grin--**

RecordxPlayer**: Evil, ah, it's a nice pastime. I'm glad I actually almost fooled you. The incredulous responses were more than worth it. --grin-- No promises on the Joseph front...**

littlema**: A lot of people were gullible, so don't feel bad. --chuckle-- Yes, I tried to write it as similar to my normal style as possible, but I promise the ending will at least make a little more sense.**

Tall One**: You **_**know**_** it was good. --grin--**

Captain**: Yes, it probably would have been. Oh well. Better late than never. Yes, I just didn't have enough inspiration to make it long. Ah well... You're working on your chapter? --holds out hands like Oliver Twist-- I've updated. Now, you? --puppy dog eyes--**

Crayola Color Sky**: --humph-- Well, it's nice to know that some people value my story over my LIFE. --smile--**

Clar the Pirate**: Why, silly, he dies of course!**

**First order of business. I sincerely hope I didn't gross too many of you out. Cadmus is rather... sanguinary. If you want a more graphic version (yes, **_**more**_** graphic) let me know. This was tamed down. Or the other was turned up. Whichever you'd like to imagine. And no, I promise I'm not sadistic. I just tend to go overboard with descriptions when Cadmus gets excited. --nervous laugh--**

**Oh, the results to the Favorite Characters poll are as follows:**

**First: Katharine – 6 votes**

**Second: Roderic – 5**

**The rest: Jody – 4; Celeste – 3; Mara Leigh – 2; Johnathon – 1; Samantha – 0; William – 0**

**My new poll is about Samantha, and who I should put her with. Please vote!**

**If you review, you shall receive a bag of Nerds® jelly beans, which are actually quite a lot better than they sound. **


	33. All Talk

**18 . 4 . 08**

**Holy scones. This chapter... ugh. It took far too long. I had it mostly ready to go a week ago, but I didn't like how some of the characters came out, and it needed tweaking, etcetera etcetera. I'm still not wholly satisfied with the end product, but I need to just get it out there. The next chapter's half done, though, and it should be up within a few days. Sorry for the delay.**

**To refresh your memories:**

* * *

"_You're a soft one," he murmured, and Katharine whimpered her last._

* * *

_Roderic woke up, tumbling off the bed and onto Joseph, who awoke with a burst of song._

"_Katharine, Katharine," he said feverishly, blinking at his brightly lit surroundings._

_Sunlight peeked in the windows. Meriwether was sitting bolt upright in her bed, staring at him fearfully, with eyes full of sleep and tangled, flyaway hair. Jody observed them all, fully dressed, from his position in the door._

"_Morning, lover boy."_

* * *

**Now, onto the chapter!**

* * *

"_It takes heart to step up and discover what you don't know you'll find. It's the step that will launch you into the sky. "_

Flylight --Ariel32

* * *

Roderic stared at Jody uncomprehendingly until Jody repeated his greeting. Joseph was halfway through his second stanza of righteous irritation, and so, naturally, Jody had to repeat it again, louder. Needless to say, this highly reduced the original humor in the statement. Joseph was ruffled, singing angrily at the world as he yanked his clothes on, but his pointed lines about Roderic went largely unnoticed by the man. He hardly spoke, not even answering Jody's gruff, "Are you alright?" with an affirmative or denial. When Meriwether asked him quietly if it was a dream, he only nodded.

Jody himself was set in a rather jaunty mood by it all nonetheless. He seemed to grin the most when no one else was, and he reflected that that was hardly an admirable trait. He was so jolly, though, that it didn't bother him. He chose to be amused by his own comment since no one else was going to be.

Even so, Jody thought it absolutely preposterous that a dream could unnerve the Prince so thoroughly.

_If this is our future leader, Rijhad might be in for a terrible reign,_ he thought grimly. _He's scared of his own shadow! Noble, perhaps, but the insensibility of being frightened of one's dreams was not apparently taught by the royal tutors._

They ate a hurried breakfast without exchanging so much as a "pass the butter," and rushed to the stables afterward. The sun was barely off the horizon, then, and the air still clung to a bit of the nighttime chill. The light was hot, though, and Jody recognized with a sigh that it was going to be another hot day.

"They're torturing her," Roderic said in anguish as Jody cinched the saddle onto Majestic.

"Come again?" he said politely, shaking his thoughts from the weather.

"They _are?!_" Meriwether said shrilly, grabbing his arm. "Oh, oh, she's alright, isn't she? We must hurry!"

"I – I do not know – if she is alright," he said, his voice pained. "It did not look as if—"

Meriwether gasped, and Jody and Joseph rolled their eyes. Despite the gravity of the situation, both men – although calling Joseph a man would be somewhat of a stretch – felt a sense of over-femininity in both of the other people. Joseph mimed a horrified gasp and pressed a hand to his forehead. Jody slugged his arm and Joseph staggered, barely catching himself before he face-planted onto the dirty floor.

"How do you know what they are or aren't doing to her?" Jody asked Roderic, logically.

"My dreams," he said without pause, looking past Meriwether to find Jody's eyes. "You know of my dreams, do you not?"

"Should I?" Jody countered, feeling like this was one of the most foolish discussions he had ever taken part in.

"I – well, I dream things that happen," Roderic said self-consciously. "It was a fairy gift."

Jody wasn't sure what to think. He compensated by moving swiftly along in the conversation.

"So, you're sure that whatever you just dreamed actually happened? Have you ever dreamt anything that _wasn't_ happening?"

"Yes..." Roderic said, brightening, but then his face fell, "but it has been weeks, maybe months, since I've had a normal dream."

They all stopped to think. Majestic snorted impatiently and tossed his head. Joseph patted his nose absently and the horse pulled back.

"Then wouldn't you be due for another?" Jody suggested, taking Majestic's bridle and patting his flank. "I mean, you're worried about Katharine, right? It's normal to have nightmares."

_I feel like I'm talking to a ten year old._

Roderic shook his head.

"No, it was far too real. Nightmares usually have some quality of unrealism that can be picked out upon awakening, yes? There was no point that didn't make sense, except, of course, _why_ they wanted her blood."

"They wanted her blood?" Meriwether looked like she might faint.

Roderic nodded rigidly.

"But, the aspect I cannot quite release is that I did not, still, I did not see her die. I saw him put the knife to her throat and make a threatening remark, but then I woke up. If she died, why didn't I see it? Something might have happened that kept him from killing her."

"That seems like a lost hope," Jody said bluntly. "There's only so many times a person can survive near death experiences."

Roderic looked up at him, and the larger man was surprised to see an almost-amused expression on the Prince's face.

"You do not know Katharine," he said simply, and his countenance regressed back to worried once more.

"Even if I don't," Jody insisted, "you have to admit this would be a long shot, to go after her. It's more than likely that—"

"We need to keep looking!" Roderic interrupted, showing more reticence than he ever had previously.

They waited for a continuation of his less then polite statement, as he looked far from done, but he said nothing. They silently watched as he thought. He walked in circles, twisted his fingers, tapped his foot, and then ran into Meriwether.

"Oop!" she said ungracefully, clutching his shoulders to steady herself.

"My deepest apologies!" he gasped, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He directed his attention to the rest of them.

_Apparently the bump sped up his mental processes,_ Jody thought cynically.

"She must be alive. I cannot stop searching for her until she is safe, or until I see that she has died. I cannot – I cannot continue to _exist _without at least knowing. And I cannot sit and wait for her to be presented to me. I have to do something! Was this not the entirety of the reason we came in to town? To find Katharine? Surely you do not expect me to admit defeat because of a dream that may – I can only hope – not be true. If she is still alive, she remains in great peril. Who else can I trust but myself? You three do not have to join me. You have lives of your own to live."

"As noble as that sounds," Jody said dryly, "we might be hanged for treason if we abandon the Crown Prince in his clear state of mental instability."

"_We're coming too,_

_We'll help you through,_

_And see the maiden,_

_Back to you."_

Joseph bowed elegantly.

"Come on, then," Meriwether said, seemingly mostly recovered from her earlier shock, "let's get a move on to Bethes, or— is that right?"

"Yes, Bethes," Jody verified, saddling Roderic's horse as expeditiously as possible before helping Meriwether onto it.

"Thank you," Roderic said, and Jody was somehow startled by the heartfelt warmth in the man's gaze.

"You're welcome," he said quietly, nodding and looking away from the penetrating eyes.

_This one is just full of surprises._

* * *

Roderic decided that traveling sounded much more fun in books. The steady plodding, boredom, and excruciating slowness almost drove him over the edge.

_What happened to the mild-mannered, timid prince?_ he asked himself during one of the common stints of silence. _Where did the old Roderic go? I never would have thought to be agitated then. Pity. I miss _that_ part of it. I don't like this tension! While I am ambling inanely along this country path, Katharine is – Katharine is –_ He didn't let himself continue on that venue, but clenched his fists more tightly around the reigns.

"Are you alright?" Meriwether asked from behind him, leaning to the side so she could see his face.

"I am well enough, given the circumstances," he replied evenly. "How do you fare?"

"Dashing," she replied, and her eyebrows crinkled as she studied his face. "You know, you do look very much like your grandfather."

He turned his head to the side and checked his originally incredulous expression to one that was more pleasantly quizzical.

"My _grandfather?_" he implored.

She seemed not to notice that she had brought up a topic out of thin air.

"Yes, you do. Just the same. We've got portraits of your whole family back three generations hanging in the most used hallway. They're right across from the portraits of our ancestors, actually. It's rather intimidating, being glared at by six generations of royalty as you're on your way to breakfast tea. But oh, yes, I like looking at your mother and her parents. They seemed to be the nicest. And you look _just_ like your grandfather. Except your eyes. No, I suppose – yes, your eyes are, what are they? Hold still!"

"I'm on a horse, Meriwether," Roderic pointed out with some amusement at her consternation.

She gripped his chin and peered disturbingly into his eyes for a moment, then let go and shook her head. Roderic put his own hand on his chin and tried to blink away the terrifying image of the lanky girl peering so intently into his eyes. It made him cold and hot at the same time. _Her eyes, they are—_

"Grey!" she declared. "As I thought. Your grandfather had grey-blue eyes, but your grandmother had brown. Your mother, she had grey eyes too, I think."

"Yes, she did," Roderic replied quickly, remembering the portrait he had hanging in the hallway outside his door as a child.

"So then, laying aside your eyes—"

Roderic had a totally unnecessary mental picture of that.

"—you look identical to your grandfather. Was he a good king?"

"He wasn't a king," Roderic reminded her. "He was a duke. My mother was to be a duchess, until she fell in love with my father. And, well, the rest is history I suppose."

"Well. Was he a good duke?"

"I believe so," Roderic said, racking his memory for the pages in the books about his grandfather, Duke Franklin. "Yes. He was fair to those under his jurisdiction, and he was a wise counselor to the king. Why do you ask?"

"Just checking," she said, and shrugged. "Roderic, I'm bored. I'd rather learn about history then sit here in silence."

"I could have Joseph sing for you!" Jody called back, twisting his head around to look at them seriously.

Roderic was surprised to see a twinkle in his eyes.

"He's not bad," Meriwether defended, "and I'm sure it'll sound much better if he's not trying to sing dialogue. Go on, Joseph. Sing something to pass the time, will you, please?"

Joseph beamed, obviously not used to having his talent praised, and immediately began to sing.

"_Here the road is dusty and grey,_

_And I will walk along it all day,_

_Until I find my home!_

_That place I'll call my own._

-

_The grass is green, the skies are clear,_

_My fair companions wander near,_

_But soon, oh they will go!_

_Back to the place they know._

-

_Leaves will turn a brilliant gold,_

_And in my heart that image I'll hold,_

_A bit, a piece of my home,_

_A memory to call my own._

-

_Winter snow will blanket the land,_

_The heav'nly deck will deal us a hand,_

_But still a'wandering I'll go!_

_There's no one here I know._

-

_When flowers bloom and birds sing along,_

_I see the lads will join in my song,_

_And they will leave their home,_

_Those lives that aren't my own._

-

_The dapper light streams over the earth,_

_And summer again is in rebirth,_

_The weepy rains will go,_

_The heat returns I know._

-

_My feet will take me to distant lands,_

_The dirt and dust will cover my hands,_

_And still I search for my home,_

_These paths, they aren't my own._

-

_Through trees and plains and mountains I'll lumber,_

_On rocks and twigs and hillocks I'll slumber,_

_Still onward I will go,_

_My home I know I'll know._

_Still onward I will go,_

_My home, oh I know, I'll know."_

"That was ethereal," Meriwether breathed when he'd finished.

Roderic felt a sick sort of homesickness for this boy he knew nothing about. The song tugged on his heartstrings, revealing a deeper character than the cheeky, whimsical boy who sang all the time.

"_I thank you for the compliment,_

_I thank you for the compliment,_

_I thank you for the compliment,_

_And I wish another soon!"_

Meriwether, Joseph, and Jody all laughed at the comical tune, but Roderic continued to ponder.

* * *

"Are you a steadfast and true Rijhaddite citizen, loyal to the crown, and intent on the continuation of the Rijhad-Terriot treaty, otherwise known as the Treaty of Amity Between Ladyra's Noble Countries of Terriot and Rijhad?"

The solemn man standing just outside the doorway looked thoroughly in earnest. Comically earnest, Celeste thought. Kayla's mouth twitched. Celeste stifled an eyebrow raise. Mara Leigh screamed delightedly, hitting the slightly open door with her wooden rattle, and causing the man to flinch slightly.

"I am – we are," Kayla said after a pause.

Celeste had to commend her ability not to laugh. She wasn't doing so well herself and had to busy herself straightening Mara Leigh's dress to hide her smile. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the man's face grow more serious.

"Then I am going to intrude on your hospitality and your confidence, as a matter of national emergency."

Something in his tone made Celeste stiffen. Kayla was bristling too as she carefully worded her next remark, judging the man with a much more serious, and wary, eye.

"I don't even know who you _are_," Kayla said bluntly, "and until I know what you're talking about, you better believe you're not putting a foot inside this house."

The man sighed and nodded to someone who had drawn a wagon up the road while they were busy holding in their laughter. Amusement was the last thing on their minds at that moment as they exchanged a panicked glance. A child appeared at Kayla's elbow while the man was still looking back at the wagon.

"Go get Daddy and the field hands, now!_ Run!_" Kayla whispered, pushing Stephen backwards.

He was off like an arrow, and the back door slammed shut less then two seconds later. Kayla and Celeste braced themselves for an attack, Celeste's hand closing around the only object within reach: Mara Leigh's rattle. Another child, wondering who was at the door, peeked between them. The man looked back around, a serious look on his face. Suzanna gulped and grabbed Mara Leigh, reading Celeste's mind and ducking away.

They almost slammed the door shut then, but their curiosity grabbed them around the necks as they saw the man escorting a heavily cloaked figure to the house. Neither of the men appeared to be armed with more than daggers. Kayla opened her mouth to shout something threatening, but the first man spoke again.

"May I introduce you to Princess Katharine Alaceia?"

* * *

**Final word count: 2449**

**Breathe easy. As Jody said, there are only so many times you can escape near death, right? And only too many times an author can pretend to kill someone before she's actually dead. Third time's the charm. --grin--**

Darth Chocolate**: Freds! How brilliant! I am calling it that from this point forward. --laugh!-- Samantha and Eggtooth? Wow, you're a little far out. I suppose it's possible...**

silliana**: Ahem. It seems your excitement over jellybeans precluded any comments on the actual chapter. But yes, they do. I promise.**

Bingo7**: Oh, quite sorry. Would you like a pomegranate instead? They're very tasty, if you've never had one. Yes, well, side characters that have distinctive personalities (however irrelevant and/or short lived they may be) is one of Cadmus' favorite things to do. I'm glad it isn't annoying, at any rate, and you say that why you like the story? Fabulous! Maybe Cadmus isn't all bad after all. --gives him a noogie and dodges spurt of flame-- There **_**is **_**a sort of energy that comes from being unpredictably transgressant. And, although I couldn't do it for a living, I do enjoy it every once in a while. Everything will come clear. It just seems that most of everyone is on a different wavelength, which is thoroughly confusing everyone in the story, not to mention you poor readers.**

Ellsbetta**: I would think that would be graphic enough for most people. Still, you never know. Those horror-readers, you know... Your personalities clash? Well, I take that as a compliment. It means (well, to me, anyway) that she might be realistic if she clashes with someone for no foreshadowing, subtle hint-ing reason where she's **_**supposed **_**to clash with people. Wow. High five, Caddy. --high fives-- Never fear about the confusion – it will all clear up here soon enough.**

Crayola Color Sky**: Alive? --scratches head and glances at muse, who actually looked up from his chalkboard-- Where exactly did you get that impression? I mean, you know she's alive here, but I have to admit that your review puzzled me. Well, you know, some villains never get caught. --half shrug-- As for Rod's reaction, wouldn't you do something similar? --chuckle-- That's just frightening! Jody is a voice of reason. That's what makes him so endearing, isn't it? Aww, I bet Celeste is really missing him. --sniffle-- Eggtooth is very weird, and very different. He's also a lot of fun. Uber super happy? That's probably more than any one person deserves. --chuckle-- Ugh, that sort of growing up is absolutely awful. Old Mother Goose! HA! I love it!**

FaylinnNorse**: No, no, and I'll have to go with definitely not. I don't think I could write horror without crying. Heh. Snippets, though, sometime, are alright. Cult, hm. Everything is horrendously confusing. But don't worry, it will all straighten out. Eggtooth was fun to write. I'm glad you like them and aren't annoyed by them. I do like that line. I'm glad you did too. --happy grin-- No, it probably wouldn't be wise. --shifty look-- Cheated? Are you accusing me of cheating? Well. Harrumph. This chapter is legitimate. Are you updating soon? --hopeful look--**

Celestial Seraphim**: Ehh, maybe it doesn't **_**need **_**to be rated T, but it was a significant horror-like jump from the rest of the story, so I thought, relatively speaking, it probably deserved it. --shrug-- And technically, since Kplus is supposed to be 9-year-old fodder, I'm **_**definitely**_** not comfortable with a 9-year-old reading that. Maybe I have an outdated view on maturity levels, but that's my story and I'm stickin' to it. --smile-- Well, you're rather pessimistic, aren't you? Do you not have faith in my ability to make good from garbage? --pause-- I wouldn't either, that's okay. --laugh-- The voice? What voice? Frogs exploding and children crying? Heavens to marmalade! Hopefully you're in a better mood this week.**

Mazkeraide**: Oh, I hope you had a nice vacation! Hm, good theory. Manliness is a decidedly good thing. Although I love some of the feminine aspects of him, others can go, really. He's slowly losing the less desirable ones so he can be a well-rounded king. --hugs him-- Good man. --laugh-- Jody is **_**such**_** a man. He's been so fun to do. Annoying and taxing (what man isn't?) but very fun. Yes, I love BatB. And yes, I know her Dad's name was Maurice. --sigh-- It's a pretty name, though!**

Pixel Fairy**: I have an incurable obsession with happy endings. I promise this story will have at least an ending you won't yell at. Rumors are so terribly confusing! Meri, ah, I love her to pieces. All your questions will be answered in time. --smile-- As for how long, well, I'm hoping to have it wrapped up in 40 chapters or less. I've basically got the whole thing penciled into my trusty notebook, but all the chapters and sections of chapters are mixed up within it and it's rather a pain to extract. But never fear! It shall be finished. Sometime. Before summer, most likely.**

daring2dream**: Yes, erm, woot for you. For knowing she was alive, anyway. "They sound like cannibals." Nice guess. And another good theory about the dream! He wasn't very bright, but he was a good source of information! Joseph IS adorable. --tweaks his cheek-- Ugh, it was so difficult to write that conversation. I mean, they all think that Birdie is someone else and they disagree on the number of groups, where everyone is... man, that was a headache of a chapter. And I not only succeeded in confusing them, but also all the reviewers. Heh. Quest. Roderic and quest don't usually come together in the same sentence unless the sentence ends in "?!" Hm, about Jody, well, you'll see, won't you? Men, indeed. Thanks!**

SIMBA**: 31: I like funny. --grin-- 32: I'm glad you liked that line. --chuckle-- Some people are just above the classifications of us mere mortals (but don't tell Joseph I said that. --wink--)**

Captain**: Ah, those are delicious too. Oh, and this is the worst chapter to read in segments too. Don't worry, you'll catch up. It was opposite from my usual style. Cadmus just goes on a bloodthirsty rampage every once in a while.**

Clar the Pirate**: Short and stupid is better than nonexistent. Yes, updating is slow. It's coming to a close, though, so hopefully Cadmus will go on a writing kick and I'll finish it up. --elbows Caddy-- The argument was complicated, though, so don't feel too bad about that. Everything will clear up in time. Yo-yo. Ha. That's a good one. He is so illogical sometimes, but, stupidly, he's the most levelheaded of the bunch. --shakes head sadly-- A cult. Hm.**

**As a point of trivia, I wrote the song in a span of about twenty minutes with a tune that came straight from the pits of nowhere and flew into my head as I began to type the opening words. It was a strange phenomenon, but Joseph was grateful that he got to sing something serious for once.**

**If you review, I'll give you a yummy popsicle in celebration of the coming summer.**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Clar the Pirate**, for pointing out my typo!**


	34. Mouth of Babes

**22 . 4 . 08**

**I'm back!**

**To refresh your memories: Kayla was there when Celeste was giving birth to Mara Leigh. She's an old friend who's several years older than Celeste. While their cottage is being reconstructed, Celeste and Mara Leigh are staying with Kayla. Not that you have a map, so this would matter at all, but their home was near the northern border, (the common border with Philettin) but because of recent events, Kayla and her family are staying in a different house further southwest. This is important for traveling times and whatnot.**

* * *

"_I haven't killed your father, yet."_

"_That's simple etiquette, not philanthropy."_

Spy Princess –FaylinnNorse

* * *

Celeste cracked her knuckles, breaking the stunned silence. Kayla didn't show much sign of surprise except a quick jerk of her head that most people wouldn't notice. Like a true frontier woman, she stood her ground.

"How do we know this is the princess?" she challenged. "She's supposed to be dead."

"If you don't recognize her by sight, I'll find a portrait of her and you can compare for yourself," the first man said with utmost respect.

Celeste's eyes darted to the undeniably regal woman in front of them. Her arms were swathed in dirty bandages, and another bandage was peeking out of the neck of her dress. The woman met her eyes fearlessly and Celeste dropped her gaze, cheeks flushing, though the voice in her head was shouting not to give up so easily.

"She was kidnapped," the man was saying, "and meant to be murdered, but we rescued her after th—well, before she was killed. There are no other sources we can plead. Believe us."

Silence reigned once more as Kayla and Celeste exchanged a wordless battle.

_Do you believe them?_

_More likely than not they're crazy._

_But the woman: she looks like the Princess._

A man came skidding around the corner of the house, brown hair flopping against his sweaty forehead, and he put himself between the strange trio and the two women without a second thought.

"Move along," he said threateningly, his dusty hand clenching into a fist.

A small crowd of men jogged around the corner of the house and stood next to Mr. Jamison, ready to fight if need be. The woman didn't flinch, but frostily looked every one of them in the eye. The two men didn't move back either, though Mr. Jamison was several inches taller than both of them.

"Wait, Chris," Kayla said, putting a hand on his arm. He didn't turn around, glaring at the two men. "They say this is Princess Katharine."

"Peddlers taking up the ghost trade?" he asked heatedly.

"Christopher," she admonished, "look at her."

The woman fiercely locked eyes with him, the cool indifference was unmistakably Princess Katharine, despite her almost unrecognizably tattered clothes and dirty face.

"You better have a good story," Christopher said after a pause, relaxing only slightly. "Go ahead and come in, but I warn you—"

"Thank you," the first man said sincerely, following them in.

Two field hands came in with a nod from Christopher; the rest were sent to finish harvesting. The story was retold in the living room, after shooing the terrified children into the hallway and instructing Suzie to calm them down. Celeste had no doubt that they were listening at the door. Christopher, eventually, warily, and against his better judgment, allowed the three to stay in his house. Not that they had much choice, the man explained apologetically after they agreed, because, since they knew of the Princess, they either had to agree or be killed.

This got Christopher worked up again, but he calmed down after five minutes of Kayla's and Celeste's soothing talk. Nonetheless, he did not seem happy to accept the company, though Kayla made up for his reticence with her worrying hospitality.

"You two will have to sleep with the boys," she said with a measure of embarrassment.

"Don't give it a moment's thought," the first man said graciously. "We can't thank you enough."

Celeste sneaked a glance at the two silent ones and found them both staring, with a look of equal boredom, at the wall.

_One would think they would be a bit more appreciative,_ her mind insisted hotly. _But, that poor lady's been through enough,_ she reminded herself.

"And you, milady," Kayla said, "can stay in the guest bedroom with Celeste."

"That will do," the Princess said stiffly.

"Excellent!" Kayla said cheerily, clapping her hands. "Oh! What are your names? And do you have anything more in the wagon?"

"Just some blankets and food," the second man said gruffly, and Celeste fancied the thought that he wouldn't speak until the Princess had.

_What a curious idea,_ she mused.

"I'm Sir Anthony, and this is Sir Joel," the first man introduced.

"Anthony and Joel: wonderful. I'll remember that. Chris, Matt, and Dave can stable your horses, then, and care for your wagon," Kayla said authoritatively. "Then, you three can get back to work."

"Matt will stay here," Christopher contradicted smoothly, indicating the more intimidating of the two hands.

"As you wish," Kayla said lightly, though she raised her eyebrows disapprovingly at the blatant show of mistrust. "Would any of you like something to eat or drink?"

"Princess?" Joel offered.

"Thank you," she said, standing.

The other two stood as well, and the rest of the room hastily followed suit. An air of uncertainty spread over the room. How was one to act in the presence of a royal presumed dead? Did the rules change? What were the rules to begin with? After a beat of pause, Kayla and Celeste simultaneously moved for the door. Kayla pulled it open, and several children fell into the room. Celeste stifled a laugh as they scampered to the back wall and avoided their mother's stern glare. Twelve eyes stared up at the group as they passed through the hallway.

Celeste was surprised to see a smile light the Princess's cold features.

"Oh!" she said, stopping in front of Suzie, who was holding Mara Leigh.

Suzie looked like she wished to disappear into the wall as her eyes stared fearfully up at the strange woman. Her hands tightened around Mara Leigh. The baby looked up at the Princess, unabashed, and grinned.

"Let me hold her," the princess commanded, holding out her hands.

Suzanna looked wide-eyed at Celeste, who nodded. She shifted the baby's weight and held her out, though she looked loath to do so. The Princess took her deftly, settling the child on her hip like a born mother.

"She is beautiful!" she said, kissing Mara Leigh's forehead.

Mara Leigh happily gabbled her life story to her captive audience, and grabbed a fistful of the Princess's tangled hair.

"Thank you," Celeste said, smiling.

The Princess looked up at her, her dark eyes calculating, then looked back at Mara Leigh.

"She looks exactly like you."

Celeste beamed, not begrudging the Princess's earlier silence any longer.

"Here, sit down, milady," Kayla offered, pointing to the table. "Suzanna, take Mara Leigh, please."

"Oh, no, she must stay," the Princess said firmly.

The confused girl froze.

"It's alright," Celeste said, pulling a loaf of bread from a cupboard. "She's probably hungry anyway. I have some mash left over from breakfast."

Kayla looked annoyed at being contradicted twice in five minutes, but didn't say anything. Celeste ignored her friend's moodiness and stirred the mash before putting it on the table in front of Katharine and Mara Leigh.

"I'm so glad you're feeding her," she said, not even giving a backward glance as she began slicing chicken. "Are sandwiches alright?"

Joel and Anthony, who had sat down next to and across from the Princess, responded in the affirmative, presumably at a nod from their monarch. Matt gave a whole-hearted yes. When Celeste heard Mara Leigh whine, she turned around instantly, chicken breast in hand, and saw Mara Leigh reaching for the bowl which had not moved from where Celeste had set it down. Katharine was looking at it, repulsed.

"Is there something wrong with the mash?" she asked slowly.

"You are not expecting me to feed her," Katharine said in disgust, as if there was no worse task she could imagine.

"I will do it, milady," both men said at once. Matt gave them a strange look.

Kayla snorted derisively, her cheer fading, as she buttered the slices of bread. She was a proponent of equal work for all, and her limited perspective found nothing different in the Princess. _Feeding_ the baby was better than _changing_ the baby, anyway. Celeste, now worried, continued chopping the chicken as the men proved themselves tyros in the area of child feeding.

The girl was ordinarily very clean when she ate, as she wanted as much of the food in her mouth as possible. When Celeste turned around again to see Mara Leigh, somewhat irked, covered in mash, she was so startled she almost cut her finger. Joel was feeding her stumblingly, though he looked to have the best patience in the world. Matt was busy looking anywhere except at him.

_Oh, good golly,_ she thought, which reminded her instantly of Jody. She pushed that thought away violently and concentrated on finishing the chicken before Mara Leigh pitched one of her famous temper tantrums. She intercepted a spoonful before it ended up in the blonde curls and smiled at Joel.

"I'll take it from here, thanks," she said, doing her best to look appreciative.

The Princess looked mildly interested in the whole affair, safely removed from the area of collateral damage. Mara Leigh smiled and yelled at her mother, banging her hands on the table and opening her mouth widely. Celeste plopped the spoonful of mash into the awaiting mouth and took the slimy baby out of Joel's lap, settling her into her own.

Kayla finished making the sandwiches, trying halfheartedly to pretend like she had a shred of respect for the Princess. The royal's snide remark on the quality of the bread made Celeste bite her tongue and Kayla busy herself preparing another round of sandwiches for the men, who had praised their first sandwiches unendingly.

"Farm raised chicken and freshly baked bread," Anthony sighed contentedly, eying the second sandwich like it was a trophy, "is something I will never tire of. It is—"

A frenzied knock on the door cut him off. Kayla jumped up to answer it, but Celeste volunteered.

"It's cleanup time for Mare-mare anyway," she said, grateful for a reason to duck out before the girl started fussing.

She walked to the door and pulled it open, looking cautiously at the nervous-looking man who was shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"I need to speak to Joel," he said, his voice reedy and thin, but earnest.

Celeste opened her mouth to call him, but he was already by her side. They spoke quickly, and Celeste could only hear unintelligible scraps of the conversation, especially with Mara Leigh whining in her other ear. The nervous man ran off quickly, mounting his waiting horse and galloping away.

"We have to go," Joel said, his words running together in his haste as he ran to the kitchen.

His eyes were hard and his mouth was set. _Complications_, Celeste guessed.

"Anthony, there's people on our trail. We have to move. Vince's gone to get Cordelia. She's agreed to play decoy, and we'll meet them in Albertte."

Anthony stood and addressed Kayla and Celeste, who both looked confused.

"Protect the Princess with your lives," he said solemnly. "Someone will come for her soon, if all goes well."

And, with no other explanation, they sprinted from the house, Matt close on their heels to aid with the horses.

"Are they always like that?" Suzie asked in a small voice, standing in the doorway.

"Yes," the Princess said without looking at her.

"How soon is soon?" Kayla asked, miffed, as she watched the wagon pull onto the road again.

No one answered.

"I'd better wash Mara Leigh," Celeste said, as Mara Leigh's steady whine mounted in pitch. "Is there anything you want washed quickly while I'm warming water?"

"Sure," Kayla said, snapping back into her normal businesslike mode. "Steve, get Aunt Lessie that basket of rags. Pete, get your wagon train off the floor, _please_. Markin, put a pot of water on for Aunt Les. Barb, Michele: paper dolls don't belong under the table. Suzanna, get a small wash pail for the dishes."

The children, who had migrated to the near hallway with the last burst of commotion, scurried to obey their mother, and Kayla took a breath, turning to the still seated Princess.

"Katharine – sorry, but if you're living here I'm not bothering with the formalities – wash these plates, please. Just a quick scrub and a rinse."

The Princess looked affronted. Celeste, seeing that a battle was about to be fought, stepped in with a clever tactic, though her tone was less than genial, since Mara Leigh's whining had turned into a full blown scream.

"Michele," she snapped, and the five year old whirled around, snapping the lid of her paper doll box shut, "you dry the plates, and Barb," the nine year old who was trying to escape the hectic room stalled her steps regretfully, "put them away, would you?"

The girls "yes ma'am"ed instantly and went to find a clean towel. It had the desired effect – Katharine, surprised that the young children should be asked to do chores, said nothing, though she looked unpleasant. The two talkative girls were soon badgering her for stories about castles and princes, which Celeste heard with interest from the next room as she started to wipe the crusty mess off her now cooing daughter and scrubbed the small rags.

"The castles are that big?" Michele said in awe.

"Of course," Katharine said, gingerly wiping a greasy spot off the plate. "They need room for guests and balls."

"Balls?" Steve said in excitement, running in and splashing his hands into the dishwater, showering the three of them. "Gee whiz, wish I had more. We only have the small ones for catch. I wish I had a great big one I could kick."

"Don't splash!" Barb yelled, shoving Steve. "And you're dumb! She meant big fancy dances, stupid!"

"I didn't know either and I'm not stupid!" Michele wailed, collapsing in a heap on the floor, the half dried plate crashing back into the dishwater.

The Princess' eyes flashed.

"You, watch your mouth. You, don't splash. You, stop crying. Boy, apologize, _now._"

Steve muttered an apology and dashed off. Michele was still sobbing.

"And you, apologize to your sister," she commanded.

Barb put her hands on her hips and glared.

"I didn't do anything. 'Sides, it's not my fault she's a dummy," she scowled.

"Now," Katharine growled, "or I'm sure your mother will have something unpleasant for you."

Barb hesitated, then scowled harder.

"Sorry for making you think you're dumb," she mumbled.

"I fo—give you," Michele hiccuped, getting off the floor and hugging Barb.

"Now that we're done with the drama, can we finish these dishes?" the Princess said in tempered irritation.

"You're not very patient," Michele admonished, taking the wet plate from the Princess' smooth hand. "That happens all the time."

The Princess didn't answer. In the next room, Celeste stifled a laugh.

* * *

"The birdie? Yeah, flew through here a few days ago. Went on to Davin, so I hear."

Roderic heard the man's flippant statement and sighed as Jody rejoined them at the table .

"_Where are they trying to go?_

_That's what I want to know,"_ Joseph sang, opening the discussion.

"They went from Allearsi to Bethes to Davin," Roderic listed. "It appears as if they are trying to reach the south-eastern border."

"Linsit?" Jody said, setting his jaw. "I should've known it would be them."

Roderic looked at him sharply.

"They are people too, you know," he said in a low voice.

"People who make trouble," Jody clarified, "and you know our two countries aren't the best of friends."

"We're at war with Philettin," Meriwether reminded them. "Wouldn't it make more sense if they were Philettin assassins? Or, kidnappers, planning on holding her for ransom?"

"Philettins trying to blame Linsit," Jody conceded. "That could be true."

"We do not know very much at this point," Roderic said, and the images of his dream battered against his resolve. "I must state, however, that the group I dreamt of did not look like they were planning on keeping her alive for very long. Not long enough for a ransom, at any rate."

"What do we know?" Meriwether asked.

"We know, with at least a bit of confidence, that there are at least two groups who want Katharine," Jody said, ticking off the facts on his fingers. "We know one of them wants her dead – presumably a Philettin assassin group—"

"Or Rijhadites against the treaty!" Meriwether exclaimed.

"—and the other merely wants to kidnap her. We suspect a third group might be trying to kidnap her from her kidnappers, acting as a sort of police replacement, since ours are dirty. We know most people think the bird is Cordelia, which is golly hard to work around since she might _be_ the bird. We know, or think, that she was in grave peril this morning. That's about it."

A man walked up to their table, looked around, and sat down. He looked intimidated by Jody, but he sat up straight.

"Look, I saw you talking to Paul," he started nervously, and Jody held his flickering gaze, "and I thought you should know he's an unrepentant liar. I wouldn't put any stock in what he told you."

"Thank you," Roderic said warmly, trying to remember if he had seen this man before. The inconstant smile was ringing a bell deep in his mind.

"Maybe you can help me, then," Jody said. "Have you heard where the birdie is?"

"Short term? Grepp. Long term? I heard rumors of Albertte. They left days ago, though. They might have already arrived in Albertte."

"_That's north of here,_

_To the battle near,"_ Joseph commented.

"Thanks," Jody said with a dismissing nod. The man was gone in an instant.

Roderic remembered where he had seen the man before – he and his wife were going to have a baby soon, Roderic had seen in one of his dreams a few months ago.

"Albertte," Jody sighed, furrowing his brows. "That's northeast, and that's by where I live."

Roderic could see an uncustomary unease spreading across his features and knew he was thinking of his wife and daughter.

"_Why the change_

_From south to north?_

_And how do we now_

_Venture forth?"_

"He poses a good question," Meriwether said seriously. "Why are they zizagging?"

"They think someone's on the trail?" Jody suggested.

"Or, perhaps the third group found them," Roderic said hopefully.

The three looked vaguely hopeful, as if they didn't really believe him but didn't want to say so. Roderic closed his eyes.

_Please be alive. Please, just be alive. I do not care if you despise me, and I do not care if you never look at me again. I just wish you to be safe and well, far away from anyone who wishes you harm._

* * *

**Final word count: 3107**

**Is anything even in the least bit clearer? What do you think of Katharine's character? Kayla? Celeste? Suzie? Various and sundry children?**

Celestial Seraphim**: ****I like it when you're excited! And while I doubt that was brilliant, I'm glad you think so. --grin-- Your twists are way twistier than mine.**

SIMBA**: I'm glad you loved the song! I love it too. Ha! "AH!" and "Sweet!" sound promising. Ah, Katharine is so terribly wicked to get along with. --grin-- the dynamic she adds to the friendly house is alarming.**

Clar the Pirate**: Wow! I am pleasantly surprised by your promptness! Aha, I was hoping someone would be amused by those lines. I liked them very much myself, especially the "second stanza of righteous irritation" one. He****h. Oh horrors! Thank you for pointing it out. It is fixed, with a little shout out just for you. Brilliant, noticing Roddy's minor slip. I can count on you to pick up those little hints I drop at different things. --grin-- I love the way he speaks too. Joseph's story, now, that might be for another time and place... Entertain away. It is rather oxymoronic, isn't it? Roderic's fretting himself to pieces, Jody's grimly worried, Meriwether's in danger of having a fit, and Joseph's distressed (at least a little bit), and Katharine is safe and snobbily sound with Jody's wife. What a hoot.**

silliana**: I should hope so. --smile-- Yes, they're both fairly human (or, so I hope) but both of them have a hard time seeing it. Joseph is sweet and underappreciated. Add a little bit of angst, and he's steal the show. --shoves Joseph firmly into back seat-- I'm good at being wicked, you know, but this update was rather prompt, so I think.**

Captain**: Popsicles are quite tasty. --slurp-- I would have to go to a shrink if I was Rod. Oh wait, he does, to some extent. --laugh-- Johnathon would be an excellent psychiatrist. That exchange between Meriwether came out fairly well for being though of as I was typing. Heh. I wish there was a way I could show you what the tune was, too! --adjust wavelength and taps temple-- Can you hear me now? Good observation about the whimpering versus breathing. Sneaky, yes; that's my middle name. --cheeky grin-- Not timely? You just updated three chapters at once! Holy scones.**

Mazkeraide**: Pity about your lack of leaves. I hope you get them, and nice warm weather, soon! I'll keep your popsicle in the freezer for you. --groan-- Oh, don't remind me. This story is going to be longer than Nasap, which was not at all my original intention. --sigh-- Do you have any conspiracy theories for me now?**

Ellsbeta**: Whimsical quality? That's good, I suppose. I meant it to add a more serious aspect to him, but either way, it added something. --smile-- Ah, thank **Lobuck** for that line about Jody's amusement. That was completely her idea. I knew it would be brilliant! It's so Jody. **

Pixel Fairy**: Cliffhangers are nigh irresistible sometimes. --wide grin-- I hope your questions about Katharine's being so far out there have been answered this chapter? Celeste gets to lead the story for a little while, which is a daunting task, but definitely fun. Jody's really the only "manly" man among them. Roderic is getting better along the terms of being assertive, but he hardly compares to a 6'8" or so blacksmith. --snicker-- That song really turned Joseph in a circle, didn't he? It was one of those revealing moments. He's such a cute guy. Meriwether is a bucket of fun! I'm so glad I kept her around. That's not a silly question! The little details mean a lot to me, too. Her hair is dark brown, and she's got a sort of olive skin tone. She's almost but not quite Hawaiian, if that gives you a mental image. You should try writing! It's very fun.**

daring2dream**: Katharine's marks, hm, indeed. You'll find out. Traveling can be very fun, if you're traveling with people you like, and if the life of your beloved isn't on the line. --chuckle-- I'm glad you liked Joseph's song. It was random. Random things happen when the sixteen year old girl unused to extensive traveling on horseback is bored. --laugh-- Yes, his mother is dead. They put the paintings of the Rijhadite royal line up after Katty married Rod.**

FaylinnNorse**: Mental To Do lists. Yes. I've had serious altercations with those. --shudder-- Happily Ever After has been booked solid for the next six years. Would you like them to be added to the waiting list? --wink and grin-- Good observation about Katty and Celeste. They have definitely opposite personalities, as you see here. I wouldn't call my songwriting talent. Heh. Most people write songs. --shrug-- I can't really write a song unless I write words and tune simultaneously. It's aggravating and strange, but it's a marvelous feeling to just have the meter work and tune work and rhyming words fall into place. --smile-- Too bad it doesn't happen very often. THANK YOU for mentioning Meriwether's eyes! You are one of two people who even mentioned that section of prose (the other being** EVA**, and I think she just notices everything). Interesting thoughts of Meriwether. Rod is SO very earnest. --smile--**

EVA**: --cheers and rejoicing-- You reviewed! Ah! I am glad he's trained, too. If that happened in an automobile, well, I don't want to know what state they'd be in. --cringe-- Life without washing machines? And fanfiction? Where **_**would**_** we be? As always, your characterization is flawless, and often points out traits I didn't realize I'd given them. You're absolutely spot-on about Jody, but I have to admit I didn't do that on purpose. It was just... Jody, and that was all there was to it. He just fell into my head, fully formed, and I didn't try to change him. Thank you for the insight. He will be a better person for that. --smile-- I think Katty's a bit spooked herself, though she's never show it. Having another woman should help her relax a little, though. Oh! No, I should think you wouldn't want a popsicle. I am dearly fond of winter. Perhaps I should change hemispheres bi-yearly. Hm... You'll notice my refreshment choice this chapter caters to you and **Clare**, who are both from New Zealand. The three-year-old is welcome to the popsicles still, though. --grin--**

Darth Chocolate**: Freds can be rather disturbing to someone who doesn't know who it is. Heh. Yes, the royals aren't used to boring trips. You can't really sleep on horseback. Well, maybe Meriwether could, but Rod really can't. Heroic Celeste! Huzzah! Questions: No. Because they have no one else to trust, and Joseph trusts them. You know I can't tell you that. Don't know how to answer that last one...**

**I have two points of trivia this chapter. One: **Celestial Seraphim** wrote a beautiful song, and then a beautiful singer sang it. It's very Disney-esque, and is one of those that gives a smile in your heart. --grin-- It's on YouTube. Search for "You Had My Heart Mella" and it will come up. I hears whispers of a re-recording, more upbeat, and in a different key. Since I really like the song, I'll let you all know if/when that materializes. Happy listening!**

**Two: I've started a oneshot collection entitled "Scars' Barrow," that has to do with different fairy tales and how they relate to Scarborough Fair (the folk song). If that interests you, I'd love your opinions. More detail is included in the first chapter of the collection.**

**GENERAL NOTICE: I'm going to be very busy in the upcoming two weeks. I have Chapter 35 started, but I can't make any promises on whether or not I will be update anytime very soon. Keep that in mind.**

**Reviewers of this chapter will get a glass of nice, cold, homey chocolate milk, made just like your mother used to make it for you. For you New Zealanders who are weathering a frosty winter, you can convert that to toasty, velvety hot chocolate.**


	35. Controlled Chaos

**19 . 5 . 08**

**Oh dear. --sighs and shakes head-- I left you in a terrible spot. Not only is everything confusing, but then you have to slog through a three week break? That's rather unfair of me. Let's have a quick recap so you can keep your wits about you:**

**Katharine is now with Celeste and Kayla's house in the country. She was brought by two men, (Joel and Anthony) and while they seem comically noble, we're not exactly sure what part they play in the saga yet, as Katharine isn't talking. Are they the original kidnappers? The torturers? Or--? My head is spinning just thinking of all the possibilities. Whew.**

**Rod, Meri, Joseph, and Jody are all on the road on "Birdie's" trail. They sincerely hope that Birdie is Katharine, though there are whispers that it's actually Cordelia Albany (**_**disclaimer to **_Clar the Pirate_**for the character)**_.

**And if that all isn't complicated ****enough****, this first part actually switches POV's halfway through (from Roderic to Jody). I usually put a line break, as you know, but there really wasn't a convenient place. It flows too well, in my opinion, to put a line break there as-is. I'll make a place later, but for now, I wanted to get this chapter up for you as soon as I could. If you have any opinions (changing a sentence or two to make it fit, or if you see a convenient breaking point that I overlooked) let me know. I'll be quite grateful.**

**Disclaimer: I quoted **_**Pirates of the Caribbean**_** (the first one) because it made me smile. **

* * *

_"It felt like her dreams were being handed to her on a platter, while someone yanked her world from beneath her feet when she reached for it."_

The Guardian --acacia59601

* * *

Meriwether didn't talk much the second day of traveling, and Roderic almost asked why, before he saw the pained expression on her face as they rode. She clung to him a little tighter and winced as they jostled along. Roderic was fairly perceptive, and even Jody made a sympathetic face in her direction, albeit a rather unconcerned one. Roderic hadn't realized that she was unused to riding, as it was a common pastime in Rijhad. He didn't ride as often as some, and was somewhat sore in the evenings, but she appeared to be in slightly more significant pain.

After a rut in the road that the horse daintily stumbled over, Roderic patted her leg with a compassionate smile, which she returned after a minute. As she dismounted, she appeared to be much relieved, despite her stiff-backed walking.

"Are you alright?" he whispered in her ear after helping Jody untack the horses.

"Fine," she muttered, brushing past him to the eating area of the small town pub.

"_Someone's got_

_a touchy spot,"_ Joseph snickered.

Roderic hardly heard him. He was watching a man approach Meriwether where she sat, in her dusty riding dress, at the table. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but scan the area for Katharine. It was unlikely that, if she was here, she would be lounging about a pub, but he couldn't help himself.

"Hello, pretty lady," the man said, leaning his elbow onto the table.

Rough brown hair fell into his eyes. Roderic had to admit that he was good looking.

"How did you end up in here alone?"

"I'm not alone," she said, in a tone that easily betrayed her shock at his forwardness. He stood very close to her.

"Your boyfriend with you?" he asked, smiling and leaning closer.

Meriwether looked uncomfortable, and Roderic stepped in, putting a hand possessively on her shoulder. His glare must have been fierce, because the young man vanished instantly, though he could have probably outdone Roderic in a fight.

Roderic sat down next to Meriwether. Neither of them smiled, despite the obvious absurdity in the previous scene.

"Is the riding beginning to bother you?" he asked, watching out of the corner of his eye as Joseph sang for their food, much to the cook's amusement.

"Yes," Meriwether admitted, "and I'm scared."

"Do not be worried. We will find Katharine's attackers, and you will be safe," Roderic assured her.

"It's not me," she said, as if the thought of her own personal preservation was knavish. "I'm worried about Katharine. I want to find her alive and well. She may not have been the nicest cousin, but I love her, and I want to make sure she's safe."

Her eyes began to well up with tears just as Jody and Joseph appeared at the table with food. The three men reacted instantly. Jody became intensely interested in setting plates in front of everybody, Roderic began apologizing for his thoughtlessness, and Joseph began composing a ballad about Katharine's life.

When Meriwether had stemmed her tears, Jody stood, mumbling about talking to the men at the bar. Joseph then explained, in a quick succession of major thirds, that he would be back imminently. Meriwether waited for them to go, then turned to Roderic and continued her thought as if there had been no interruption.

"With every day that passes, there's less and less of a chance that she's still alive. It's not that I don't want to marry you— well, actually, it is, to a degree, but, well, you need her," she said stumblingly. "You may not be perfect for each other, but you need her all the same."

Roderic felt something in his heart cinch painfully and embraced her, dropping his head onto her shoulder. He blinked back the tears and held her tightly. She whispered soothing words in his ear, and just for a moment, there was something about her that reminded him of Katharine, and then it was gone and he sat back.

Joseph returned and they set upon the food, talking about the town in between bites of food. Meriwether pushed hers around more than eating it, and Roderic scolded her worriedly.

"You have hardly eaten anything for the past two days. I know this cannot hold a candle to the food you are used to eating, but you must eat."

"Why?" she sighed, halfheartedly spearing a limp lettuce leaf on her rude fork.

"Because you cannot afford to lose any weight," he pointed out bluntly, then bit his tongue, remembering women's sore spot for matters of weight.

_Roderic!_ he shouted internally. _You have been living with a woman for a year, and still you make the most oafish comments. Think!_

Her cheeks pinked slightly and she looked down at herself.

"That's sweet of you," she said quietly.

Roderic, through his wave of relief, thought he saw Joseph shoot him a 'you got lucky' glance.

"It was the truth," he mumbled with embarrassment, and busied himself with his food.

Meriwether ate most of the food on her plate before Jody returned.

"Birdie's here and gone," Jody announced as he sat down.

Meriwether lost whatever semblance of appetite she was pretending to have and pushed her plate distractedly to the side. Commensal activity halted. Roderic's jaw tightened and his fork paused, splinters of pork trembling a mere inch off the plate.

"Where did she go this time?"

The lights dimmed slightly, Roderic noticed.

"Not sure," Jody replied, not looking up from his plate. He quickly ate a few beans before they grew any colder. "She thought Parthein or Calbern – north still. The fidgety guy in Bethes seems to be right so far."

Joseph, who had been subtly trying to gain Jody's attention by singing nonsensically, was finally given the floor as his scatting reached the point of desperation.

"What?" Jody said pleasantly.

Joseph jerked his head at the bar, where a man was talking to the barmaid Jody had just gotten information from. The man glanced in their direction for a second before slipping something into her eager hand.

"Uh oh," Meri observed, putting her newly reclaimed fork down with a clank.

Roderic, who had been engrossed in his boiled cabbage, looked up.

"Joseph, take Meriwether and ride to the milliner on the edge of town – the one we passed coming in. We'll meet you there in a half hour. If we don't show, ride to the next town," Jody murmured in a rush.

Joseph took Meriwether by the hand, slipping from the table before the man arrived.

"A blacksmith and a prince," the man said easily, sitting at their table. It seemed darker than it had a moment ago.

His eyes followed Meriwether's skirt as it whipped around the corner leading to the back door. A stocky man with black hair followed her at a jog. Jody kept his face impassive, inwardly furious that he hadn't been paying attention so he could evacuate the pair earlier.

Roderic kept his face impassive too, Jody saw, impressed. The man's demeanor was cold and intimidating, but Jody wasn't one to be easily scared. He put a bite of potato in his mouth and chewed deliberately before setting his fork down.

"Who are you?" he asked reasonably.

"Someone willing to make a deal," the man replied, not even glancing at Roderic.

_Which is good,_ Jody thought, _because he's starting to look nervous._ In the back of his mind, a very Celeste-like part of him noticed that the man talked strangely. He wasn't from Rijhad – or, at least, not from that part of Rijhad. It was almost as if his lip caught a little on his teeth as he spoke.

"What sort of deal?" Jody asked, hoping he still looked politely bored.

"You lead us to Katharine, and we'll consider keeping Meriwether alive."

The man couldn't disguise the verve that the statement lent him. In a grotesque way, his eyes lit up like Sammy's did that last time Jody had seen her at Christmas.

"Why her?" Roderic asked, visibly alarmed, though he didn't ask how the man knew it was her.

_How could he know?_ Jody wondered. _Meriwether is hardly mentioned in Rijhad. He couldn't possibly know her by sight._

The man's scarred lip lifted in a derisive sneer, one that seemed to encapsulate the lineaments of his soul.

"She's a royal," he said, plainly and flatly, as if that was all the explanation that was required.

"Look, fella," Jody said, hunkering down so his face was level with the man's. "You don't _have_ Meriwether. How 'bout this deal; you and your men leave double quick, and I'll consider letting you leave alive."

The man was unfazed, looking toward the corner where they had last seen Meriwether. Jody glanced around. The stocky man had a firm grip around the tall girl's waist with one hand and the other was behind her back, presumably with a dagger. To the predominantly inebriated occupants of the pub, it looked like they were a couple lingering on the edge of the room.

"Golly," Jody muttered under his breath.

Roderic swallowed a yelp.

"Do we have an accord?" the man asked.

Jody hesitated, glancing at the now-empty corner. Roderic surprised him by interjecting firmly.

"Yes."

The man smiled at him: an unnervingly dark smile. Jody was mildly impressed once more that Roderic did not appear at all nervous – even though he clearly knew that they did not know where Katharine was, and certainly would not lead this man to her if his life depended on it.

_But what if Meriwether's life depends on it? Hm._

"We'll keep sweet thing with us," the man continued. "If she behaves nicely, you can have her back once we have Katharine."

Jody pursed his lips but nodded stiffly. Roderic was nodding smoothly beside him. A regal air was wafting about him, but Jody didn't give that any thought. His mind was racing about the danger Meriwether was being put in. He had no doubt that Roderic was internally panicking about that ambiguous statement, but the prince's face was guarded.

"We'll follow you," the man said, a note of finality to his statement, "so don't try anything that will get you killed."

Jody leveled a glare at the man. The man didn't bother glaring. He fixed his eyes on Jody, stood up, then turned around, breaking eye contact and leaving the room. The room seemed brighter after he had gone.

"I knew she should have stayed," Jody muttered angrily.

"It is my fault," Roderic said, pain evident in his eyes and the regal aura gone now that their assailant had left.

For the first time since meeting the prince, Jody saw him as something other than a sissy. The expression on his face reminded him of what he himself had felt, learning Lee was dead. Surprising himself, he put an awkward hand on Roderic's shoulder and murmured the words he had waited too long for someone else to say.

"No, it's not your fault."

* * *

"You're burning it!_ MOMMYAUNTLESSIESOMEBODYHELPHERAAAAHHH!" _Michele shrieked, running away from the narrow-eyed Princess who was doing her best to cook flapjacks.

Unfortunately, she had never had to cook before, and had no idea that you had to flip the cakes. They were smoking when Kayla rushed in a minute later and grabbed the spatula from the Princess. She muttered something about "no use at all" as she flipped them all over in under ten seconds.

"Golden brown, then put them on that platter. _That_ one, there," she instructed sharply, handing the spatula back and glaring at the flapjack's burnt tops. She pointed exaggeratedly at the platter on the table. The Princess twisted her mouth sourly in reply, and Kayla, who was about to say something else, was called away by Steve's yell.

"Mommy! Barb's sticking her tongue out at me!"

"HE'S breathing MY air!"

"Would you two shut _up _and _work?" _Markin shouted irritably.

"DON'T SAY THOSE WORDS!" Michele screamed from the other side of the house.

Kayla left her again with a glare to sort out the altercation. The Princess managed to get the flapjacks onto the plate before they were totally inedible, though she burned herself and mumbled a few choice words that a wide-eyed Suzie passing by pretended not to hear. The flapjacks were cold, though, before Celeste came in to check on their progress.

"Breakfast!" Celeste bellowed, then smiled at the Princess, who had been busy glaring at the less-than-exemplary quality of the cloth on the dress that Celeste had lent her.

"You have to call them or they won't know. Just yell."

The Princess's eyes narrowed more at the outré suggestion, and Celeste chuckled.

"Just pretend you're one of us for a little while. No one will think worse of you for it, I swear."

"I don't care what others think of me," she hissed as children stampeded into the room. "I care what _I_ think, and _I_ think that yelling is not within my scope of approved behaviors."

"You might want to change your scope," Celeste said lightly, then picked up Mara Leigh from Pete's capable hands and swung her around.

Mara Leigh screamed her happiness, then leaned for the Princess, whose rather set face turned to a smile as she took her. Celeste felt a twinge of jealousy that her child would choose the pompous stranger over her own mother, but kept a smile in place.

"Okay, you feed her today," she said, handing the Princess a bowl of mash and a spoon. "Just put the spoon in front of her and she'll eat off it. Very easy kid to feed."

She tickled Mara Leigh's tummy and the baby giggled.

"I'll cook up a few more flapjacks for us adults while you do that. Kayla is sorting out a difference of opinion between Steve and Barb, which included an unwashed diaper and a mop."

Celeste left no room for argument as she scootched some kids further down the bench to make room for the Princess and the baby. She turned her back and began pouring more batter onto the pan over the fire. When she glanced back, she saw a pleased baby and a thinly smiling woman. Not a speck of mash was out of place.

"You're doing great!" Michele said sincerely, grinning through a mouthful of burnt flapjack.

"These are burnt," Peter started to say but Michele banged her fork onto his hand, making her brother yelp.

"Be _nice_," she stage-whispered with a deathly glare at Peter — who just rolled his eyes and kept eating.

The Princess either didn't hear them or pointedly ignored them. Celeste kept one eye on the table as she quickly cooked up some more flapjacks, noticing again the tightly bound wraps around the Princess's arms. She wondered what was wrong, but didn't get very far before Kayla came in with a vengeance.

"The next time someone leaves a diaper somewhere _other _than the laundry basket you are _all_ going to be sentenced to doing diaper laundry _every day!_ It's not been that long since Michele was in diapers! You cannot all have forgotten our policies about diapers! And, the _mop bucket,_ Barb? The _MOP BUCKET?_ And then, Steve, did you _really_ have to try to _MOP_ with it?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'm sorry," Barb said meekly.

"No, ma'am," Steve said, his voice equally hushed.

"May I ask what possessed you to do such a thing?" she said shrilly.

She was quite the frightening sight, the bottom of her dress wet, her hair unbrushed and sticking up in poofs from yesterday's braid, and her face flushed with anger.

Silence reigned. All of the children had carefully put their utensils down and tried to make themselves as small as possible. Even Mara Leigh was completely silent, looking up at her revered Aunt Kayla with a gaze of fear and confusion.

"Well?" Kayla said, louder.

"I didn't know it was a diaper," Steve said in weak defense.

"Was it a mop?"

"No..." he admitted.

"_Then don't mop with it!_" Kayla said in exasperation.

Celeste would have laughed if she didn't know how much that would frustrate her friend further.

"Kayla, have a flapjack," Celeste said quietly. "I'll finish cleaning up the hallway."

"Thank you," Kayla said grumpily, though her anger deflated somewhat.

The kids relaxed. Besides Daddy, Aunt Lessie was the best at saving them from their mother's wrath. And, though they usually deserved it, they nonetheless appreciated the help. The only room at the table was next to the Princess, who moved just enough to let Kayla sit comfortably before continuing to feed Mara Leigh who was babbling again.

Celeste left to finish cleaning up the unpleasant mess in the hallway, after putting the platter of flapjacks on the table. The small conversations that were being passed back and forth ceased as they all finished eating uneasily while their mother glowered.

"I need to get out," the Princess said, after Mara Leigh finished her last bite of mash.

"You do?" Kayla said with a sarcastic bite.

"Move," the Princess said flatly.

"Say pl—!" Michele said before Suzie pinched her and shook her head desperately.

Kayla's eyes were rimmed with red as she dared the Princess to make her move. To give Kayla her due, she was not usually this argumentative, but the events of the morning had wound her up too tightly to be easy-going.

"Move," the Princess repeated.

"Did you royals learn a nicer way to say that, or is that not important enough for you?" Kayla said.

Michele clapped her hands over her eyes and her mouth dropped open. Markin grinned at Peter, and they silently high-fived under the table.

"We learned a nice way to say it to more important people," the Princess countered.

Barb started to stand up angrily, but Markin yanked her back down and Steve put a finger on his lips. Neither of the women noticed them as they glared at each other.

"I thought the common people were important to royalty," Kayla jabbed.

"Point for mom," Pete whispered under his breath.

Suzie looked like she was going to have a nervous breakdown. Michele still refused to remove her hands from her eyes.

"We value them as much as they value us," the Princess said caustically.

"Is everything alright?" Celeste asked, with false cheeriness, from the doorway.

"Yes. I was just getting up," the Princess said, not moving. Her eyes never left Kayla's.

"Kayla, you might want to move," Celeste said, the tone in her voice polite, but the look on her face showing that she knew more than she was letting on.

A tense moment passed before Kayla stood up to let the Princess slide out.

"Thank you," the Princess murmured, much to Kayla's shock, and swept from the room.

"I don't get her," Kayla admitted, now completely confused, as she sat back down to eat.

She picked at her half-eaten flapjack uninterestedly.

"You all are excused," Celeste said to the fidgeting children, all of whom had long ago finished their food.

They poured off the bench and ran for the door.

"Walk!" she reminded them. "And go finish your chores."

"Yes, ma'am!" they chorused, slowing as they turned the corner and resumed their tasks.

"She is confusing," Celeste agreed, sitting down. "Do you want to talk about it? You looked fit to be tied."

Kayla made a face and took a small bite of flapjack.

"I was just being stupid. But she wasn't helping! She's impossible!"

"You two deserve each other," Celeste chuckled. "You're a pair of stubborn fools, but she might have more of a reason than you have. Who knows what she's been through? You did notice the bandages on her arms?"

"Of course," Kayla replied impatiently, but then her eyebrows creased. "I didn't really think about them, though. I wonder what happened."

"Unless you really feel like asking, there's no way we can know," Celeste joked, then sobered. "Whatever it was, I'm sure it wasn't pleasant. Anything that covers that much area can't be pretty. Give her a break, would you? I know she's arrogant and rude, but she probably doesn't know anything better. We _can_ teach her a lesson with kindness. She might be using her attitude to protect herself from more pain."

"Or she could be a brat," Kayla supplied.

"Either way, we must be kind. Firm in our requests and rules, but kind. Okay?"

"Fine, I'll try," Kayla muttered.

"Thank you," Celeste said warmly. "Meanwhile, I'm going to try to find out if those men were good or bad, and what she plans to do from here."

"Good luck," Kayla said, rolling her eyes. "I doubt you'll get a straight answer from her. She looks like a liar."

"Kayla," Celeste admonished.

"Well?" Kayla said haughtily, in a passable imitation of the Princess's sweeping stand. "I know one when I see one, you know, dahling."

"Stop that," Celeste said, though she giggled.

Katharine, who had been passing by the room at that moment, Mara Leigh in hand, pursed her lips at the imitation. It reminded her of Johnathon, forcibly and unexpectedly. He always used to make fun of how regally she conducted herself in public or whenever she was angry.

"I could guess when you're mad by the measure of your delicate queenly steps," he had joked once, and she had allowed herself a small laugh at the clever remark.

She shook her head and kept walking, smiling at the baby.

* * *

**Final word count: 3484**

**Opinions on the new development with Rod and Jo² Co.? And what do you think of the Katty/Kayla confrontation? And her thoughts of Johnathon? Hm…**

silliana**: I made up for past swiftness by dragging my heels with this one. Heh. Matt was the farmhand: Joel and Anthony were Katharine's... er... companions, for lack of a better word. Though, they were more than just companions, but we don't know exactly what yet. Katharine needs adjust ment to life in general. --aims a glare in her direction-- But I love her anyway. And so does Roderic. For some reason.**

Crayola Color Sky**: 33: Oh, alright. I just wanted to make sure that I didn't say something I shouldn't have said. --wipes brow-- My muse is devious and sneaky, aren't you Caddy? --he doesn't deign responding-- 34: Kayla is one of my down-to-earth characters. One of my very few. --chuckle-- You can see that she and Katharine naturally butt heads. Heh.**

Mazkeraide**: Shifty, indeed. Trafficking, eh? Hum. Vampires? That was a wild and unprecedented thought. Interesting.**

Captain**: Aww. --pats on the back-- I hope you remembered Mother's Day, since you miss her, especially. (Although forgetting Mother's Day even if you don't miss her is a bad idea.) Eh, but your story in general is furlongs better, and the better ones take longer time, so I think we probably even out. And if I recall correctly, your chapters are also longer. However, I won't complain whatsoever if you decide to start writing more often. Cordelia is a random girl that some people think is "the bird" while others think Katharine is "the bird." They (Rod, Jo², and Meri) don't know who "the bird" is , but they're hoping it's Katharine. Does that make sense? Do you feel like writing a lovely long review now?**

Bingo7**: I liked that line too. It really showed her authoritative side and her nasty side simultaneously. And, it was rather amusing. --chuckle--**

Darth Chocolate**: Life really is monotonous for peasants, although they have to do more work, so... The Katharine thing will be figured out, fear not. **

FaylinnNorse**: That was one of my favorite quotes of yours too. I'm incredibly glad that I found a chapter to use it in. Katharine's character, ah, yes. It was hard to nail down. I'm fairly sure I got it right here, as I know exactly what's going on. But it is entirely strange to have her around regular people. Hum, I'll recheck that scene and see what I can do differently. Thanks for pointing it out. Ha, children. --laugh-- She's great. Everyone seems to be picking out that line. It was one of my favorites, too. Mature indeed. As in, Rod needs to be a **_**man,**_** and Katharine needs to realize that she's not the center of the world. --laugh-- Chemistry, yes, I suppose they do. Absence makes the heart grow fonder? --grin-- Good guess there, with the What's Going On With Katty situation.**

daring2dream**: Wild goose chases are fun. --wicked laugh-- It is frustrating, isn't it? I originally considered not showing Katharine at all, so we wouldn't have any idea where she was, but I decided she needed more character development. And who better to screw her head on straight than Celeste and Kayla, with a myriad of children? Kids have a way of making you see things from their point of view, if they're stubborn enough. It is rather ironic that the husbands are together and wives are together and neither of them know it. Ha. I **_**adore**_** writing children. Writing Barb and Michele and Steve and all them are making my fingers itch to pick up Lilliana, Ceilear, and Stephen again! I need to finish this so I can keep writing Jab! Ah, no, actually, Suzie is Kayla's oldest daughter. She is very quiet. Pounding Katharine down to regular people's level is part of the aim.**

Ellsbetta**: Oh yay! Lengthy reviews! Yes, her fascination with Mara Leigh and refusal to handle the dirty aspects was something I put thought into. I decided long ago that Katharine would adore children. I was hoping to slip some into the original ball scene, but when that didn't work out I thought of putting her with a whole load of them after she got kidnapped. And, here we are. She loves them, and can't handle them. --laugh-- As for the fiasco: I see what you mean. I wish I hadn't taken such a long break right in the middle of this, too. It was extremely inconvenient. I am standing solid on my belief that everything will make sense by the end. If it doesn't, well, I can always rework. But at this point, I don't think I **_**can **_**rework that until I have it all written out. The direction of the story did start out that way, but my focus had to change after I got started, so I suppose it is a combination of both ideas. The underlying foundation of this whole story, however, is **_**realism.**_** In real life, the original plan doesn't always come through, and your whole life focus shifts for months at a time without warning. That's why this seemed so abrupt. There was no foreshadowing, it was unexpected, and they have to roll with the punches. Do you see my point? Good observation about Katharine washing the dishes with the kids. **

Clar the Pirate**: I do so like that line. --chuckle-- She seemed off? Well, she is a bit off, what with kidnapping, near death, torturing, and whatnot. Many people have been commenting, though, so I'll see if something was wrong there other than that you just haven't seen her in a while and a lot of things have been going on. Hm. Good thoughts on Meri's eyes. This whole chase is confusing. If the trend continues, I'll be summarizing at the beginning of every chapter, anyway, so everyone will stay with the program. --huge eye roll at self-- Ah! I have a subconscious obsession with J's! Cadmus, what are you doing to me? Thank you for pointing that out. On the rewrite, I'll probably rename the more sub-characters. I might even rename Joseph and/or Johnathon, because having Johnathon, Joseph, and Jody is a bit much anyway. Do you have any ideas for names that might suit their characters? Babies are fascinating. --grin-- And sometimes they do look so earnest as they spew out nonsense, you could imagine that they're telling you their life story. You liked that sentence? I'm glad! I didn't really think about it, but I suppose it is balanced. Hum. **

Ilovecookies15**: Aww, nothing to say? Well, I'm glad you found something to say for this one! Developing Katharine's character is like pulling teeth, She's so arrogantly set in her ways, it truly would take a huge event like this to make her change her view on life. I am glad you think it's original. --relief-- Oh! Happy **_**quite**_** belated birthday! I hope you had a wonderful one!**

SIMBA**: I miss the couples being together. It's almost angsty, how long they've been separated. But ah, such is life. They'll get over it. --grin-- They'll have to interact soon anyway; the story is coming to an end, and I can't leave them apart from each other! I hope you did well on your finals!**

Tall One**: 33: Ah! You missed the point! --slaps forehead-- I used the same pair of words at the end of the last two lines of every stanza. Well, actually, there are two pairs of words, and I switch off, but the point is that was intentional. I'm glad the plot isn't boring to you, anyway. --smile-- 34: A bear would be a good way to describe Katharine. --chuckle-- Well, I focus on the vocal rhymes because Joseph is, erm, singing them. I thought it would make more sense that way. **

ElvishKiwi(AKA: Eva in disguise!)**: --chuckle-- Everyone has a right to act childish on occasion, I should think, especially a venerated ancestor, because they've already proved themselves worthy of veneration. Nevertheless, I'm glad you reviewed again. Christopher is a good man. I like him. He's protective and assertive, and knows how to be brave without having to consider it. Katharine is hardened. That's a good way to describe it, I think. The kids, though, are really getting to her. She loves them, as you can see. It's really hard to write Katharine post-kidnapping-torturing-etcetera, because she is fundamentally unchanged, but also different. I think, with a lot of thought, I nailed her, and I'm glad you think I did too. Ha, the chores. Yes, that will be the hardest part about 'peasant life' for her, I think. And you **_**know **_**she would have point-blank refused to do the dishes if it hadn't been for Michele and Barb helping. How clever of Celeste. You laughed out loud? That always flatters me when people say that. I can see why, though – that scene would have been hysterical to watch! Mash everywhere, Mara Leigh's baby-like faith in Big People getting tested, and Katharine watching with vague amusement out of harm's way. --chuckle-- Good theories! And as for the room mate issue – tune in next chapter. And for the friends, well, read on. We'll see what happens.**

slipshod**: I have reviews from people who wax eloquent, and reviews from people who say "good job!" I like feedback, in whatever form it comes. I appreciate that you took time out of your busy schedule to drop me a line. Thank you! Oh wow, really? You didn't get bored or annoyed? I'm glad to hear that. Assorted chocolates, mmm. The characters are fundamental to this story, so I'm glad you (who have just read the whole thing in a relatively short amount of time) think they are developed well. That is something I almost constantly worry about. Nothing ruins a story like a badly developed character. Katharine recently won in the favorite character contest, as you might have seen. She's a brat, but somehow people like reading about her. --shrug-- Thanks! I'm glad you like the way I write. --laugh-- I imagined a Napoleon Dynamite voice there for the quote, so that actually made me laugh aloud. Simple opinions are great. You don't have to have paragraphs explaining why. It was a huge compliment for you just to say you like the way I write. I'm happy you liked the plot, and I'm very satisfied that you dwell on the characters' depth, because that really is the whole point of the story, It's not so much about what's happening, as it is about how the characters react and grow because of what's happening. Yeh, swearing is not something I go with, sorry. I am enjoying your Western story, though! And I checked out the one on **Captain Shod**, only to find out it had swearing too. Ah, well. Ugh, I know what you mean; people don't really seem to realize that you don't often just fall bang into love without any preamble. And, well, if you do, there's a good chance that unless you really get to know each other, it's not going to work. It's a pet peeve of mine. Samantha was meant to be that sort of a girl. One that we can all connect with at first, but after a while we just find ourselves yelling "GROW UP!" Thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed reading it, and I hope to see more reviews in the future? Even if it is just a quick "Good job!" or "Update soon!"**

Pixel Fairy**: Anything with kids is usually amusing. Especially **_**seven **_**kids, in house with two harried mothers and a Princess. --laugh involuntarily at the thought-- Yeah, we're in for some Kodak Moments around the Jamison household. Can you imagine Katharine hanging the laundry on a clothesline outside, with chipper Michele, shy Suzie, and hyperactive Steve, and coming upon a pair of Mr. Jamison's underwear? --laugh!-- Ah, I wish I had enough room for more scenes like that. As it is, most will have to be implied. Ah well. She is a touch more human, but mostly around the kids. **

**As a general note, remember that **Lobuck**'s "A Soldier at His Own Expense" is occurring in roughly the same time frame as this, and definitely in the same world. If you're reading SHOE, it might help you see some things in I Do in a different light, and vice versa. It's not necessary, but you'll see some connections more quickly than others might. Yes, I know she hasn't updated. --sigh of exasperation--  
**

**So, I've decided to do something strange after I finish I Do (which, Lord willing, will be in the next couple of months). There are a few specific scenes that I put a lot of thought into that didn't get to make it into the finished product, and I'd hate to see them go unread. There's also one little scene that I wrote to make fun of myself. Heh. The point is, I'm going to open a story called "The Blooper Reel" after I Do has concluded and include the deleted scenes and other funny tidbits you might enjoy. Comments on whether or not you'd like to see it would be appreciated. Here's a peek at what you'll get to see:**

**--Alternate beginning to the story**

**--A cheesy songfic (yes, you may gag. I did.)**

**--What might have happened the night Samantha was drunk in town (special thanks to **FaylinnNorse** who inspired that scene)**

**--Mara Leigh being teased as a schoolgirl**

**--Roderic yelling at Katharine**

**--The plot twist that made me lose my inspiration for so long before it got scrapped**

**And much more. Opinions?**

**Reviewers get a generous spoonful of cherry cobbler, fresh out of the oven. Add whipped cream or ice cream as you wish.**


	36. Do You Believe in Magic?

**30 . 5 . 08**

**Happy Birthday to **SIMBA**! (a touch late)**

**ALERT: After a bit of prodding from **EVA** and hours of thought, I slightly changed the Rod-Jody-Creepy Guy part of last chapter. You can reread, but I'm not sure you'll really notice anything different, so let me correct your subconsciouses here.**

**1. The man had a strange accent ("****It was almost as if his lip caught a little on his teeth as he spoke.****")**

**2. The room got a little darker as the men arrived, and little brighter after they left. Jody didn't really notice, but if you had read it, you would have noticed, most likely, because you're more observant than the average blacksmith. --grin--**

**3. His reason for wanting Meriwether was because she was "a royal" instead of "Terriotian."**

**Sorry for the change! **

* * *

"_I mean that you've played the Ice Princess long enough. It's time you had your happiness. And you won't have it until you go and do something about it."_

"_I can't make him love me back," said Lavender shortly._

"_But you can at least find out whether or not he does love you," countered Betony. "You assume he does not because he hasn't told you of it. But it takes a very proud and vain man to declare love when he has received no encouragement. And Lord Alain is neither proud nor vain. And you have surely been the most discouraging woman that ever lived." She paused, letting this sink in. It had its effect. Lavender's hard expression gave way to one of doubt._

"_You can't go through your whole life wondering if you might have been happy," Betony resumed. "I'm not wise like you, Lavender, but I do know that making choices as to what will make one happy is hard. You have to give happiness a chance. Even if he doesn't love you, at least you'll not spend the rest of your life thinking about what might have been. Ten years is long enough. You've carried so many burdens, Lavender. Give this one up. Promise me."_

The Twelve Dancing Princesses --Queen Eleni

* * *

Celeste walked down the hallway yawning, almost forgetting that the Princess was asleep in their shared room. She thought of it just in time to quietly slide the door open and sidle through. The candle that Katharine always lit was standing on the small table away from the bed, casting eerie shadows about the room.

Grateful as always that Katharine kept to her side of the bed without fail, Celeste edged under the warm, woolen blanket.

"What?" Katharine gasped, sitting upright and looking around wildly.

"It's just me," Celeste said softly.

Katharine's figure relaxed and she caught Celeste's eyes for a moment.

"Yes, naturally. Forgive me," Katharine said laying back down.

"There's nothing to forgive," Celeste said with a yawn. "I'm sorry for startling you."

"There's nothing to forgive," Katharine echoed, and Celeste couldn't tell if it was a tease or a genuine statement.

It was the closest, however, to personable that Celeste had ever seen Katharine outside of Michele or Mara Leigh's company. She decided to try to talk to Katharine and see where it went.

"Do you need any help with the bandages on your arms? And I saw one on your neck. I just wondered, you know, because I don't want them to get infected or anything…" she trailed off.

Katharine was silent.

"I probably should change them, yes," she said, quietly. Her voice sounded almost vulnerable, and Celeste had to repress a desire to squeeze her hand under the blanket. "Let's do it now."

She paused, and Celeste was surprised at her insistence, but was about to agree when Katharine added one more word. "Please."

Celeste smiled in the darkness.

"Sure. We can do it now."

It didn't take long to heat some water and clean the jagged wounds. They looked infected, so Celeste did the best she could to care for them with the limited resources she had at her disposal. Though Celeste's lips were pursed and her eyebrows furrowed, she didn't ask Katharine what had happened, and Katharine didn't offer any information. She never made a noise through the whole operation, her face set in the cool, calm mask.

After Celeste tied the bandage securely over the small knife wound on her chest, Katharine allowed herself a sigh.

"Is that better?" Celeste asked.

"Yes, it is," Katharine said with a wry smile, carefully rubbing her newly bandaged arms. "I didn't know my subjects were so skilled at healing."

"Growing up with Lee and Jody, if I didn't know something, they would have died," Celeste chuckled.

"Jody loves you, you know," Katharine said out of the blue.

"I'm sure he does, in his own way," Celeste said, taking her strangeness in stride. Maybe if she kept the conversation going, she might learn more about this perplexing woman.

"He loves you too deeply to really understand," Katharine said, narrowing her eyes as she stared into Celeste's.

Celeste almost shivered at the cold, dark depths.

"The Prince really loves you too," she replied.

"I know he does," Katharine said softly, looking into the fire for a moment. "I know he does."

Celeste wasn't sure to think of what she had just said, so she smiled tentatively and changed the subject.

"How do you know Jody loves me?" she asked.

"I understand things," Katharine said with a half shrug. "It was fairly obvious, from the way you acted, that you were missing him. And, you _do_ have a child, which I've heard tends to bring people together. Although, knowing how relationships work in court, I'm not sure I fully agree with that statement – but I digress. Past that, I just understand it, I suppose. I thought you'd want to hear it. Women usually want to."

"Well, Mara Leigh isn't Jody's child," Celeste said with a smile. "Jody is my second husband. Lee was my first husband, but he died in the war and Jody came to my rescue. I thought it strange that you would say that, since the whole reason he left to join the army again was because he refused to love me, or admit that he did. So, how do I know your information is valid?"

She smiled, half in jest, half in earnest.

"It was a fairy gift. Take that as you will," Katharine said, equally in jest and earnest.

"I feel like such a child," Celeste said, ducking her head and giggling. "I have far too many questions."

Celeste's infectious laughter even coaxed a chuckle from Katharine.

"Since I'm asking, I might as well ask some things of consequence. I have been dying to know who those two men were."

"Oh, them? They called themselves members of the – oh, what was it – the Justice Preservation Association, or something," Katharine said, giving Celeste a cockeyed look. "Zealots. They did save me from my kidnappers, though, and they were planning to keep me alive, so I can't complain."

"So, what are you going to do now? You can't stay in the countryside forever."

"And I can't exactly go riding into the city's capital alone, either, when I'm supposed to be dead."

"You have a point," Celeste conceded. "Do you have a plan, then?"

Katharine sighed in annoyance.

"No. I can't think of a way out of here, and it's driving me batty. My only chance is to wait for those Zealots to come back. I think they have a plan to get me safely home."

"They'd better come back soon, before these children do you in," Celeste said dryly.

Katharine beamed.

"Oh no, I love the children. They're perfectly grand."

"Do you plan on having any of your own?" Celeste asked, then realized that it was more of an awkward question out loud than it had sounded in her mind.

"Why should I, when there are so many others I can borrow?" Katharine replied with a grin.

Celeste chuckled appreciatively.

Conversation strayed to many other topics before they both simultaneously realized that if they didn't go to bed soon, it would be time to get up, and they both slipped into bed, Celeste with a smile on her face, and Katharine with her unreadable mask.

* * *

Roderic and Jody set off toward Albertte with the morning light, keeping their eyes peeled for Joseph.

_Hopefully he was smart enough to ride on and keep out of sight_, Jody thought, stealing a glance behind him at the rider that was obviously from the kidnappers. His hands flexed on the reigns, wanting nothing more than to wring the necks of every single filthy man in that party. Kidnapping innocent children was a low blow, one that Jody could not tolerate with any amount of patience.

Roderic was lost in thought, guiding the horse out of instinct.

_Trying to formulate a plan, no doubt,_ Jody thought. _I sure hope one of them gets cocky and confronts us by himself. I'd love to show him what I think of cowards,_ he seethed. Somewhere back there was a girl, naïve and silly, but now lonely and frightened, and his helplessness made him grind his teeth in frustration.

_Concentrate. How to save Meriwether and the Princess both. When we don't even know where the Princess is. Golly._

Neither man talked much on the long ride toward Albertte, but in the silence, the two men began to better understand each other, and irritate the other less and less. Jody respected Roderic more, and Roderic began to understand that comfortable silence meant more to Jody than frivolous words.

They hardly saw Meriwether, except when the men would approach them to order that they move faster. Meriwether looked thinner, but stronger, each time. It was the kind of strength that rippled through her eyes, even under Roderic's frantic scrutiny. She even managed to smile at him once before she was hustled away.

Jody felt a growing determination in Roderic that swelled with every passing day.

* * *

As Roderic and Jody rode into the town, they realized something that hadn't really occurred to them before, though the other towns had looked more or less similar.

The town was grey.

It wasn't colored grey, but grey was the first word both men thought of as they simultaneously narrowed their eyebrows at the deserted marketplace: the place that made them notice the abnormality to begin with. The storekeepers looked grim and wary, and any people visiting the stalls talked in low voices, hardly glancing at the two men on horseback.

The fear was almost tangible in the air. As they rode past a small huddle of people, Roderic wondered how he didn't notice the growing fearfulness among his peasants. Even his dreams had been darker of late, but he had assumed it was due to his darker mood.

He and Jody shared a strange look. Quickly, they stabled their horses in the town's inn and walked in, guarded against the creeping dismal air. It took a while to find a man that looked like he would talk to them. Most of the men and women eyed the strange pair and deliberately busied themselves with something else. They came to an older man, sitting in the corner and looking like he had not moved in many days.

A full mug of some drink sat in front of him. Warm blue eyes watched them easily as they approached.

"May we sit here?" Roderic asked.

"Be m'guest," the man said, clearing his throat.

"Have you heard where the Birdie's gone?" Jody asked quietly, though he really didn't know why he was being quiet.

"She's gone on to Albertte, no doubt about that," the man said. "You aren't the only one that's been asking. I don't know who you're for or what your aim is, and I don't want to know. You look like an honest man, and looks are as good as words these days. All I can say is be careful where you ask. Rijhad is in a bad way, with the Prince and the foreign princesses both missing. I'm not sure there's a side anymore that's right, but if there is, I hope you find it. Raids and searches from the royal guard and the Philettins have everyone watching their friends and foes. Whoever this Birdie is, her days are numbered. The royal guard is chasing her like a dog, and no one can hide from them forever."

"Raids?" Jody asked. "Where?"

"All around Albertte, even deep into the country," the man said, shaking his head. "I've lost my half brother and his family already, and they thought they were safe."

"Celeste," Jody said, turning abruptly away from the man and striding out of the pub.

"Jody, wait," Roderic said, jogging to keep pace. "We have to follow the Bird. I know you are worried about your family, but—"

"I know, I know, the Princesses," Jody almost shouted, slamming his foot into the stirrup and causing Majestic to snort in fear. "Golly, but I think my two girls should be as important as yours!"

"I am truly sorry," Roderic said, swinging onto his own horse and keeping pace with Jody. "Something is going to happen soon. Whether for better or worse, with all these people looking for Meriwether and myself, someone is going to find us. I can only hope that we find Katharine before anything happens to her. But, either way, you will be on your way home soon. And what of your friend? Can he not defend them?"

"Christopher's a great guy, and he has all the farm hands," Jody admitted, cooling somewhat.

Roderic nodded, biting his lip to refrain from saying anything else, and they both nudged their horses into a faster walk. Jody's silence was indicative of his reluctant agreement, and Roderic knew that.

* * *

_Knock, knock, knockKNOCKknock!_

"Celeste, could you—"

"Kayla, the—"

"I'll get it!" Suzie yelled, balancing Mara Leigh expertly on her slim waist.

The baby blubbed casually, gnawing her fingers and watching everything with her snapping green eyes. Suzie pulled the door open, and the polite "Hello," was delayed a moment by the disheveled figure in front of her. A young man, a good five or six years her senior, had his hands on his knees, breathing heavily.

"_Is the birdie here,_

_Did she land near?_" he sang in between gulping breaths.

Suzie cocked her head to the side. Mara Leigh chirped and waved a drool covered hand.

"You have a lovely voice," she commented.

"Aye," he replied without hesitation, then blinked, freezing mid-gasp. "I do," he said again, and Suzie noted that his voice seemed sweet and sing-songy, even when he wasn't singing. "I — I'm back!" he whooped, grabbing Suzie and Mara Leigh and spinning them around, a truly elated smile lighting on his angular features. "You fixed me!"

Suzie couldn't help smiling, too, against her better judgment.

"Who _are_ you?" she asked firmly, trying to keep a secure hold on Mara Leigh, who was bouncing excitedly.

"Joseph, friend of Jody the blacksmith. He was from around here, wasn't he?" Joseph said in a rush, obviously distracted by his newfound liberation. "OH! The Birdie! Is she here?"

"What birdie?" Suzie asked.

Joseph stared at her, and seemed to just register that she was not the woman of the house.

"Where's your mother?"

"MOTHER!" Suzie bellowed, then smiled sweetly at Joseph. "She'll be here in a moment."

The pair stood in awkward silence, Suzie looking shyly up at the older boy.

"How'd you do it?" he finally blurted out.

"D-do what?" Suzie said, surprised at the sudden question. "I… called her."

"Called— no, not_ that! _How did you fix me?"

"Fix you? How do you mean?" she asked, resettling Mara Leigh on her hip before she toppled forward.

"I couldn't do anything but sing and rhyme, and you fixed me somehow," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Her big, grey-eyed stare made him nervous.

"Have you been like that for_ever_?" she asked in awe.

"No…"

"This sounds like magic," Suzie said, in a very matter-of-fact manner that hearkened towards the woman she was about to become.

"What do you need, Suzie?" Kayla yelled from somewhere near the back of the house.

"Someone at the door wants to talk to you!" Suzie shouted back.

"I'll be – right there!" Kayla grunted, and there was a crash.

"'kay!" Suzie called, happy to be out of harm's way, entertaining the stranger.

"Well, however you did it, you're a wonderful person," Joseph said.

Kayla arrived before he saw her blush.

"Hello," Kayla said pleasantly, and Joseph immediately saw where Suzie got her beautiful eyes.

"Did the Birdie fly through here?" Joseph asked.

"Birdie?" Kayla echoed, subtly pushing Suzie into the house. "I don't know what you're talking about. Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine!" Joseph said, giving her a strange look. "Have you not heard of the Birdie?"

"Who are you?" Kayla asked, one hand on the door.

"You need to get better at introducing yourself," Suzie muttered under her breath.

"Joseph, friend of Jody the blacksmith."

Kayla's eyebrows lifted.

"Any friend of Jody is a friend of ours. Come on in. Have you seen him recently? He hasn't dropped by or sent a letter since we last saw him."

"He's detained elsewhere," Joseph said tactfully, following Kayla into the house.

"Who's this?" Celeste asked, coming in the back door and seeing the boy.

"Joseph. A friend of Jody's," Kayla explained.

"Is he alright?" Celeste asked, eyes widening.

"I'm not sure how to answer that, exactly. How do you all know Jody?"

"He's my _husband!_" Celeste said, more forcefully than the situation expressly called for.

"Oh," Joseph said, looking taken aback, and glancing at the children who, in the absence of both mothers, were beginning to congregate and see what all the fuss was about. "I didn't know he had so many children. Actually, I didn't know he was married."

"They're mine, mostly," Kayla said, brushing off his questions. "Why are you here? Is Jody in trouble?"

"No. Or, yes. Well, I don't know. Look, I have to start at the beginning. There are rumors that the princess isn't dead, that she's really kidnapped – or on the run – or something, and we chased after her, but then the others got held up by a nasty group of men who then kidnapped Princess Meriwether, and I escaped to find the Princess before the nasty group finds and her and does who-knows-what with her and Meriwether. I was hoping you'd have information for me, but if you don't, I really must be on my way, because they're catching up to me."

"Dolt," Katharine said, striding into the room with Michele at her heels. "Why does it not surprise me that my sweet cousin has gotten involved?"

"Princess! We meet again," Joseph said, leaping comically into a stiff formal position, then bowing deeply.

A small smile ventured onto her features.

"Jester. Crazy Joseph?"

"Formerly," Joseph agreed. "I've reformed. So," he said, turning to Kayla with narrowed eyes, "are you the nefarious villain with malevolent intent?"

"No," Kayla said decidedly. "She was dumped here, and the pair of men that rescued her has gone ahead with every intention of returning."

"I see," Joseph said.

There was a pause.

"Now what are you going to do?" Barb asked, hopping up to his side.

"I'll – we'll – I actually don't know," Joseph said, wide eyed, as he realized he had forgotten a very important part of the rescue mission. "I was so worried about finding the Princess before the others did, I didn't even think about what I would do once I found her…"

Pete and Steve giggled. Suzie glared at them. Mara Leigh burped.

"Joel and Anthony should be coming back any day now," Katharine said, then furrowed her eyebrows. "Actually, I think they're coming now."

"How do you know?" Michele asked eagerly.

"I just do," Katharine said firmly, sharing a look with Celeste.

"Who are they?" Joseph asked, confused.

"The rescuers," Celeste explained, "and apparently they have a plan."

"Someone has to," Markin muttered, earning a punch on the arm from Suzie.

_Knock knock knock!_

"I'll – get it," Kayla said, giving Katharine a strange look.

A moment later, Joel and Anthony had rushed into the room.

"Princess, we haven't a moment to waste," Anthony said. "We must ride to the capital! Cordelia will distract them long enough to keep everyone safe."

"I'm coming with you!" Joseph said, quick to be sure he wasn't left out. "And everyone who? You mean the Prince and Princess too?"

"Yes, them," Joel said, looking the unimpressive boy up and down. "We'll get acquainted on the way. You look like a true Rijhaddite."

"Uh, thank you," Joseph said, quirking an eyebrow as he followed them out the door.

"Well, bye," Kayla muttered, disgruntled.

The children crowded at the window to watch them all ride away.

"Don't say thank you. It's quite alright. I suppose it was implied," Kayla continued, grabbing a rag from Markin's hand violently and wiping the mud off the floor where the two men had tracked it in.

"They were in a bit of a rush, Kayla," Celeste said. "Off to save the country or something, no doubt."

"Who isn't?" Kayla grumbled.

Celeste just smiled and shooed the children from the window.

* * *

**Final word count: 3205**

**Whew, what a busy chapter! Celeste got Katty talking! Any comments? What did you think of Jody and Rod's discovery of the state of the country? And what of Joseph's being rescued from singing?**

silliana**: I was dying of boredom too, actually. Heh. --sigh-- To be fair, I never expected, in the beginning, for Kayla and Katharine to get together, or for Joseph to ever return to the story, I named them without thinking. The rewrite is probably going to have name changes. Ugh. **

Ellsbeta**: You like the Blooper Reel idea? Oh good. I've now realizing exactly what number of deleted scenes I'm going to end up with. It's killing me, paring off all these cute scenes that are irrelevant to the plot. --sigh!-- At least they won't be collecting dust in the archives of my computer. Katty is a magnificent brat. Though, she is getting better. Marginally. A little at a time. --chuckle-- Kayla probably loses track of the children quite easily. They're not really meant to stand out, though; they're side characters, for comic relief, mostly. --chuckle-- Yes, they are.**

daring2dream**: You like the Blooper Reel too? Oh goodie. I now have two people who will read it! The kids are so funny! The confrontation, well, it came of its own accord. --chuckle-- Ah, you know I can't really answer those questions. But I'm glad you're thinking of them! Those are good questions to be having. Thanks? I think. --smile-- Oh, thanks for the congrats. I love long reviews! (But what author doesn't?) Of course you can! Ah, exams. Study hard! Do well! --laugh-- Sorry I gave you a craving. I'm glad the character are still coming along. --deep sigh-- I have to admit, I'll be relieved when this is over and I can do something easier.**

Bingo7**: Ha, I'm glad you liked the title! Kayla's house really is controlled chaos on most days. Heh. Relating is good. Burnt pancakes? I think most people could relate to that part of it, anyway. Oh good, another person who likes the Blooper Reel! I'm glad I won't be the only one chuckling at the outtakes. **

Crayola Color Sky**: Oh, don't seethe. That's bad for your emotional health. Have some more cobbler. Hum? Twists? Moi? --looks innocent-- You'll read the Blooper Reel too? Great! **

Mazkeraide**: Ah, exams. That's understandable. I hope you did well! --laugh!-- Well, you have a point with that, but Jody was also sending her off with one of the least noticeable people in the group, so they have more of a chance of escaping. His plan was to get them out of there, and leave the ones who could defend themselves behind, if that makes sense. He didn't exactly realize they were kidnappers going after Meri. You're not the only one that finds that funny. Golly is a rather old-lady-ish thing to say, so I can see why it would be funny. Ah, a Katharine proponent. You make good points. Vampirates! Ah! That made me laugh. Lowering stress is a good thing. I'm glad I can help. --grin--**

slipshod**: Ah! I never thought of that. That's true. Poor guy. Well, poor girls. That part of the chapter was probably my favorite to write. Kids are just such a hoot! **

FaylinnNorse**: The children are great. They are my favorite characters, I think, in the whole story. --laugh-- They're getting somewhere, don't worry. Yeah, I'm glad Jody did, too. Rod needed to hear it, and Jody needed to stretch out a friendly hand. They're progressing, slowly.**

Pixel Fairy**: Roddy can be quite kingly, in the right situations. And, Jody can be sensitive, if he thinks about it. --chuckle-- I did kind of have him show up out of nowhere, but I did do that on purpose, to some extent. --shrug-- There isn't much foreshadowing if that happens in real life. But, eh. Kids make everything ridiculous. Mopping with a diaper? --shakes head and laughs-- Comic relief. Kayla is down-to-earth. So is Katty, but in a more cynical way. That's probably why they don't get along – they're too similar! Oh, I've imagined Katty loving kids for a long time. It is a weird thing, given the rest of her character, but it does add a necessary soft element to her. She has six children. They aren't all terribly important, but in case you were wondering, their names are Markin, Suzie, Pete, Barb, Steve, and Michele. I can't answer question number two. But, you probably knew that. --grin-- As for three, you'll find out. Probably. Number four: I know, but you don't yet, so I can't really tell you. Ah, the Birdie: she's whoever you want her to be. --mystic vibe-- No, I can't say.**

Darth Chocolate**: Good guesses! You can have an extra big scoop of cobbler for that. As you can see, Katty did kind of open up to Celeste. At least, they opened communications. Aw, thanks.**

**As always, please point out my mistakes. I'd love to hear about grammatical errors, plot holes, blocky flow, weird dialogue, or anything else. **

**Reviewers for this chapter get a slice of strawberry pie. If you've never had it, just rest assured that strawberry is the single greatest pie on earth. If you're allergic to strawberries (poor unfortunate souls) you can have some blackberry pie, which is also quite good.**


	37. The Chips Fall

2

**7 . 6 . 08**

**Okay, even after a disheartening number of reviews (5?) I'm deciding to post anyway. I hope the lack of reviews didn't have to do with the general view of the chapter? --gnaws on lip--**

**WARNING: Slightly graphic. Don't say I didn't warn you.**

**Disclaimer: Cordelia Albany is not mine. Thank **Clar the Pirate** for her refreshing spunk.**

* * *

_"The sun is peeking through the hills and shining into my eyes. Look, I appreciate the fact that poets seem to enthuse over the 'brilliant colours of the sunset' … but I? I really don't get it. I mean, think about it. The sun rises. Good. Yes. We're all happy. The sun sets. That's great… why go into endless rhapsodies about it?_

_Yes._

_Moving on now..."_

Two Kingdoms --slam-a-revolving-door

* * *

"Oh, look: three for the price of one."

The dark voice drew Jody out of sleep so quickly that he was rolling out of bed with dagger in hand before the intruder had finished his sentence. Despite being at least a foot and a half shorter than Jody, without much brawn to speak of, the man didn't flinch as he held a razor-sharp blade to Roderic's throat.

"I suggest we talk this through," the man said calmly.

Roderic looked mostly scared, but Jody saw the shade of disgruntled in his grey eyes. Jody hadn't heard the man either. _How did he get in? I always sleep lightly, and Roderic sleeps lighter than I do._

"Sit down," the man continued. Jody stood. "It has come to our attention that you have been misleading us."

Jody remained silent. So did Roderic, but that might have had something to do with the dagger at his Adam's apple.

"Katharine is on her way to the capital, as I'm sure you know," the man said levelly returning Jody's hard stare. "While you may pride yourself in keeping her out of our reach, you really have not done very much for your country or hers. Another coalition lies in wait for her along her path. Meanwhile, some of my comrades want to kill you for your wiles, but I respect your wits. I am not interested in killing you. There are very few people that I really wish to kill. I only want these two royals. You are free to go, and I will give you enough money to take your wife and daughter and be a noble in Ellespeth, if you wish."

The offer almost tempted Jody, thinking of the safety of Ellespeth when compared to the Philettin raids of late. The cowardice of it, though, was unbearable to think about.

"I don't wish, thank you," Jody said firmly, ignoring Roderic's surely heroic save-yourself type looks. "What do you want with them?"

"Your mortal mind could not comprehend the enormity," the man said, and Jody noticed again his strange accent.

"I'm not going to let you have them," Jody said flatly.

"We already have one, and I as good as have the other," the man chuckled coolly. "Your only choice is to leave the country or die."

Jody stood firm, and the man let out a short breath of air, as if in dark frustration. It suddenly struck Jody that it wasn't as bright as it should be, judging by the position of the sun outside.

"Very well. I pity you. I hope you don't think anyone is going to save you; dashed hopes make death worse. Come. Oh, yes, your dagger?"

Jody clutched it.

"One motion and you can watch your prince bleed to death," the man said, eyes glinting.

"How do I know that isn't what you're going to do anyway?" Jody challenged.

"You don't know," the man replied, holding out a hand for the dagger.

Jody slammed it into the man's hand, hoping the man would flinch. He didn't. The dagger seemed to dull before his eyes, but as Jody blinked in confusion, the man slipped it into his pocket.

"Come," he repeated, and led the two out of the room, dagger at Roderic's back. "We have some preparations to take care of."

* * *

Roderic's heart pounded in his ears as they walked down the street.

_Preparations? This is the same man that—_

He didn't see where she came from, but suddenly Meriwether and another man were at his elbow. She caught his eye. Her wide eyes pleaded for an encouraging smile, one that told her there was a plan, and that everything would be okay. Roderic couldn't muster the fake confidence to give her more than a sickly grin. Her eyes dropped immediately.

They walked for over twenty minutes, and even in the cooling air the prisoners were starting to get sweaty, before they reached the abandoned house. It was beat up, but still looked sturdy enough to stay upright. The once-faultless wooden walls had gaps between the shrunken boards, and the door only looked like it opened because someone had wrenched it back into place recently, as evidenced by the rust scraped off the hinges.

They led the three into the house, then promptly let go of their arms.

"Leaving is not an option," the man said shortly. "We'll be back at dark for your preparations." And they left.

Jody immediately tried the door, but found it fastened too tightly than was plausible for such a worn doorframe and door. He tried again, shoving his shoulder against it, with all his formidable bulk.

Roderic, who had been watching him and was about to offer his assistance, was then distracted by Meriwether, who gripped his arm. He jumped, having totally forgotten she was there.

"Are you alright?" Roderic asked, taking her hand and looking at her worriedly. "What did they do to you?"

She started trembling.

"What happened?" Roderic asked, gripping her shoulders, almost frantic. He was vaguely aware that Jody had moved on to rattling the impossibly intact windows.

"I'm scared," she whispered falteringly. "I – I don't know what they're going to do to us, but – Roderic, they're vampires."

Roderic's head whirled, and he thought he might be sick. Suddenly, his grip on her shoulders was more to steady himself.

"How…?" he asked faintly.

"I saw them," she said in a low voice. "Twice." Her body shuddered, then she started crying.

"Ssh, ssh," Roderic said, taking her in his arms and rubbing her back.

"I won't die like a princess – if they – do that," Meriwether said.

Coming from anyone else, that might have sounded trivial, but from Meriwether it was serious. She wanted to bring honor to her country, even if no one alive would ever know.

_She has grown up,_ Roderic thought, with a stab of realization. _This is not the way I would have chosen for her._

"I tried all the windows and doors," Jody said, walking up to them.

One look and Roderic knew he had been listening to their conversation.

"Can you not break them down?" Roderic asked. "Can you splinter a weak section of the wall?"

Jody shook his head grimly.

"Something is holding this house in place. I know what makes a sturdy house well enough, and this is a house that I should be able to tear apart if I put enough concentration into it. It's not budging."

Roderic walked over to the door, still holding Meriwether's hand comfortingly. He touched the knob and tried it, pushing. A strangle feeling, like tiny threads running under his fingers, though there were no threads on the knob, startled him into an idea.

"It is magic," he breathed, recognizing the feeling from the gifts at the ball.

Neither of them questioned him.

Even though they knew it was hopeless, they pushed and yanked at the doors and windows, tried scraping at larger holes in the wall, and did everything they could think of to escape before the vampires returned. With every degree of the sun's descent, their actions grew more frantic and concentrated. None of them wanted to think about the fate that lay clearly before them.

* * *

Cordelia rode hard along the road, not looking behind her at the vanishing city. She dodged carts and people with agility, gaining a few shouts of alarm, but losing no ground to her pursuers. She smirked, knowing she had the faster horse, no matter what these demons who looked like men thought they could do unhorsed. She was no expert on horsemanship, but she knew several people who were, and she was confident that she would lose those _vampires_ who were trying to keep her from warning the others.

Besides, she had a fresh racehorse waiting for her in the next town, and the others weren't that far away now.

With a derisive laugh, she tossed her head and rode, hooves pounding the dry dirt.

* * *

The last sliver of sun disappeared below the horizon, taking with it all the yellows and oranges that had wreathed the waning orb. Grim greys and bruised purples settled into their reigning positions in the sky, banishing even the palest of yellows from their domain.

Then, the three vampires returned, and the room darkened further. Jody was sure of it. If he squinted, he could see a dark aura around them.

_They bring darkness wherever they go,_ he thought with an internal shudder.

"Katharine should be here before we've totally finished," the leader said. "Their intended path almost intersects with this little town, and they're due to ride through in a few hours."

Meriwether had her arm through Roderic's, and Jody was standing protectively half in front of them. The leader looked between the three of them.

"Let's start with Roderic," he said, with cheeriness that was grossly out of place in the tense room.

"Stop, don't kill him," Meriwether said weakly, clinging to his arm as the vampires approached Roderic.

Jody moved quickly, knocking the blade from the hand of the one nearest him and shoving him into the vampire next to him. The leader ran up behind him, but Roderic jumped on him, prising the dagger from his hand and wrenching his arm behind his back while Jody kneed his stomach. Meriwether kicked one in the face as it started to get off the ground.

Instantaneously, they all disappeared. Roderic found himself clutching empty air, and Jody, who had pinned one to the ground, fell hard onto his knees. Meriwether gasped. Before any of them had time to readjust, the vampires had reappeared – all behind them with knives at their backs.

"You really shouldn't have done that," the leader, who was behind Jody, said.

"Did you expect us all to walk quietly to our doom?" Jody asked through clenched teeth.

"Most people do," he observed, prodding Jody to start walking toward the shadowy stairs leading down. "But, then again, most people are terrified out of their minds."

"I'm not easily frightened."

"Bully for you."

They stepped down the rickety wooden stairs without a light to guide them. Jody, who was in front, had good enough balance to make it down with only minimal difficulty, but Meriwether kept tripping and almost knocking the whole procession of them down.

_The vampires don't seem to need light. Little wonder, _Jody thought with a grimace. The pitch darkness of the basement was intensified by the vampires' darkness until it seemed to be a palpable living being of its own. Jody heard, through the dizzying static of the blackness, a shuffling of feet, and assumed that the leader had traded off with another vampire. His assumption proved correct when the lighting of a small lamp revealed Roderic struggling against the leader as he forced him into a wooden chair. The lighter of the lamp, the vampire behind Meriwether, looked like he disapproved of the flame, but held it high, as he was obviously instructed.

"I don't think I need to tell you that protests will only make his fate worse," the leader said, closing the last shackle on Roderic's shin to the leg of the chair.

In the flickering lamplight, Jody could see that the chair was discolored, whether from age, or from—

_Can't they just kill him quickly?_ Jody thought, frustrated at his own helplessness. Meriwether's small arm twisted around his and she drew flush to his side, her breath syncopated and harsh. The leader ran a finger down Roderic's arm, secured palm-up to the arm of the chair, and the Prince didn't even shudder, following the leader's movements with his quick eyes.

"Fear makes you taste so sweet," the man murmured, testing the blade on his thumb. "Your fear is easy to accomplish. Being alone. That's easy. It's already happening. No one can save you. No one will save you. You're going to die, utterly alone, in the pitch blackness where no one will ever find you."

Jody had to shake himself to rid his mind of the growing dread that the vampire's words were nailing into his heart. Something about the vampire's voice made everything he said seem so real. Meriwether cringed further into him, her heart racing against Jody's side.

He could see Roderic struggling not to fall into the pitiless depths of the vampire's words. His fists clenched and unclenched, and his eyes were screwed shut.

"Katharine will die alone, too; alone, and in the dark. Alone… with no one to hear her cry out and beg for someone to help her. Totally helpless. You are so alone."

Roderic fought harder against the visions struggling for footholds in his mind.

"No, no, no. That's not true," he muttered.

"Oh, but it is," the vampire whispered. "That's the real horror of it; it is true."

Roderic clenched his fists again, the tendons visible and shaking.

"Alone," the vampire breathed, floating the knife closer to Roderic's underarm and running his tongue along his teeth.

The knife dipped down and cut his arm, twisting a perfect square outline that pooled and ran with blood. Meriwether whimpered, grabbing fistfuls of Jody's shirt and burying her face in it. Roderic screamed and writhed, and the knife came up for air, dripping once, twice, onto the unscathed flesh.

A door slammed open and a figure dashed through the clutches of the darkness until she stopped, chest heaving, between Roderic and the knife. Bandages covered her arms, and a give-no-quarter look covered her face.

"Take me," she said to the vampire, who looked surprised.

Jody glanced at the door to be sure that there were, truly, no vampires following her. All was silent. A drop of Roderic's blood dripped onto her hand from the bloody knife.

"Let him go," she said, staring at the vampire with her dark eyes.

"Heroic, Katharine, but not prudential," he said smugly, wiping the blood from her hand and smearing it onto her cheek, like lopsided war paint. "I was planning on finishing you up after Roderic, but you'll just have to wait your turn."

Roderic's eyes, swimming with pain, focused on the hazy form that was so familiar.

"Katharine?" he said in disbelief.

She smiled halfheartedly at him, and traced her finger along his jaw. Shivers ran with it, blotting out the throbbing pain for a moment.

"He doesn't deserve this. Let him go," Katharine said, drawing her hand back to her side.

"This was never a matter of 'deserving' anything," the vampire said, his face catching and reflecting the dim shadows. "It just is, like predator and prey. I win, I feed."

"He doesn't deserve this," she repeated emphatically. "Leave him alone. Let him go. Take me."

"And you do deserve it?" he laughed.

Katharine glanced back at Roderic with a cryptic look that Jody didn't understand.

"I suppose I do," she said. "At least more than he does."

"You're getting more virtue," the vampire said, sliding the knife down her arm, not hard enough to cut through the bandages, but hard enough to make her wince. "Perhaps I should slit your throat and drain you first, while your beloved watches, hm?"

He balanced the tip of the knife on her heart and her eyes went wide.

"No—" she said, then the door slammed open again.

She wrenched the knife from his temporarily loosened grasp. Joseph, leading what looked like the entire town's worth of men, flooded into the basement. Each of the hard-faced men was carrying something potentially lethal, from weighted rolling pins, to butcher knives, to pitchforks, to an actual sword or two.

The vampires, seeing that they were cleanly outnumbered, vanished.

The resident doctor (a roly-poly man who looked like he'd be more at home in the bakery) pocketed his scalpel with relief and pulled a bandage from his coat pocket. He began wrapping Roderic's arm tightly, ignoring the Prince's sporadic shouts of pain.

"I can't stitch it up," he said apologetically, "or it'd pull apart. Well, keep it clean and wrapped. What happened to you, little lady?" he asked Katharine.

Roderic looked sharply at her and saw a slowly growing spot of crimson on her chest.

"It's just a scratch," she said imperiously.

He stared at her, as if contemplating the best course of action. She grimaced again.

"Perhaps you _had_ better look at it," she relented. "But, not here."

Roderic refused to leave her side, Meriwether – after she and Jody had fought through the crowd – refused to leave either Roderic or Katharine, and Jody refused to be alone with Joseph, who was enjoying his unmetered speech to a much greater extent than anyone wished. As a result, all five of them followed the doctor to his house, while the butcher organized the clean up of the house and the notification of the royal family.

They all agreed that she was a wonderful woman.

Roderic, shaken, but otherwise doing surprisingly well for someone in his situation, escorted Katharine by the elbow without a second thought. She smiled at him, looking unsure, then rolled her eyes at the ceaseless blue streak running from Joseph's mouth.

"—brilliant woman, our future queen. After Cordelia told us what was going on and we got here, she came up with the idea that Whatsiswretch's magic would let her in since he'd marked her. Walked in there of her own accord to distract the vampire until his magic defenses wore down enough for us to break in! Absolutely brilliant. And it's amazing how much easier it is to get people to take you seriously when you're not singing! They all followed me right away with weapons! It was a sight to behold. Me, leading a whole battalion! Wait 'til the boys in the army hear _that._ That butcher woman is someone else. Can you believe—"

Katharine stumbled, blinking rapidly, and Roderic, who had been staring at Katharine without seeing her, jerked his attention back to her.

"What's—" he started, then she fainted.

His moment of indecision cost him his balance, so they both ended up on the ground, though he cushioned her fall. He bit his lip to replace a cry of pain when his wounded arm was banged between her head and the ground, but he made no other complaint.

"Oh, dear, dear, dear," the doctor murmured, examining her pale face while Roderic unobtrusively moved his wounded arm from behind her head, pillowing her head with his hands instead. "I'll need to look at her quickly, very quickly."

He looked up at Jody.

"Could—?"

Jody stooped and slid his arms under her shoulders and knees, standing easily. Her lolling head came to rest on his well-muscled chest, and Roderic felt a surge of unfounded jealousy.

As usual, her actions were confusing him. She offered to save his life, but only as a distraction, and she was not acting self-confident, yet she was as assertive as ever.

_What is she thinking?_ he wondered, over and over, whenever other worried thoughts faded through the long night as he waited for the doctor to proclaim her well.

By nine o'clock, Meriwether was fast asleep. By eleven, Jody had joined her, dominating most of the cozy couch, except the bit at the end that Meriwether was draped over. Joseph fell asleep in the middle of a sentence at five-'til-midnight, and Roderic nodded off unintentionally moments later.

* * *

"Sylvia! Dishes, now!" a woman shouted, sweeping the floor with a battered broom.

Sylvia flounced in with a huff and plunged her arms into the dishwater, scrubbing angrily at the pan. A cat wound itself between her legs, and she petted it with her toe.

* * *

"Prince Roderic?"

Roderic woke, standing up in his haste.

"Yes?" he slurred, wiping his eyes hurriedly. "How is she?"

"She will be fine," the doctor said reassuringly. "She was dehydrated—"

_That would be what Joseph was talking about when he said they forgotten water._

"—suffering from an infection in her arms, and the loss of blood put her over the edge. The chest wound was minor – a deep scratch – but there was a lot of blood. She was lucky the bandaging over her old wound protected her from a deeper cut. The old wound was beyond repair. It should have had stitches, but now she'll just have an ugly scar. From the placement of the wound, however, it looked like whoever was behind _that_ knife barely missed her heart."

The doctor paused, letting that sink in to Roderic's sluggish mind.

"And for that, she can be thankful. I cleaned out her arms and spread an anti-infection cream on them before re-wrapping. Her chest is just wrapped. That should last you back to the palace. Let me see your arm again."

Roderic let him unwrap the tender wound, gritting his teeth. The strange jagged square was puffy, and oozing clearish-white liquid. The doctor clucked his tongue.

"Infected blade, must have been. Let's wash that out and put some medicine on it," he said, taking Roderic to the back room, where Katharine was sleeping.

The doctor talked as he cleaned out the nasty wound and spread a brown cream on it before wrapping it up again, but Roderic wasn't paying attention. His eyes were taking in Katharine.

Her face was troubled, her forehead wrinkled, and her mouth tight. The doctor had left minutes ago, but Roderic didn't notice. Overtaken by a superseding sense of peace, mingled with happiness at seeing his wife again, alive, and not in a dream, he curled his fingers on hers, almost cradling them.

He then noticed the smear of blood still on her face and reluctantly pulled his fingers from hers to find a rag. He dipped it in water and carefully wiped the scarlet streak away. He brushed his thumb on her cheek to remove the residue of moisture and couldn't bring himself to remove his hand. She was so serene then; the troubled look on her face was gone.

"I love you," he whispered to her, pressing a sweet kiss onto her forehead.

Her next breath was deeper; then, in an act that almost made Roderic jump out of his skin, she slowly opened her eyes. It took a moment to focus on him, but when she did, she grinned.

"You should be asleep, foolish one," she whispered to him.

"I was about to sleep," Roderic protested, gesturing at the cot shoved up against the wall.

They both looked at each other for a moment, then Roderic smiled rapturously.

"I'm so glad you are here."

"I owe you an apology," she said abruptly.

"You have, as always, picked the most advantageous time," Roderic said. Now that he had started smiling, he wasn't sure he could stop.

"About Johnathon."

That cleared his head and slicked the smile right off his face.

"Yes?" he said, and he knew Katharine recognized the change of tone, but her expression hardened to match.

"I did not care for him, and even if I had, it was wrong. Believe it or not, I've actually figured some things out from these peasants."

"I told you they had a lot to teach us," Roderic said, surprised at the hint of smugness that crept into his statement.

"And I never denied it," she pointed out.

"You surely did everything except deny it."

"And that's why I'm the clever one," she said with a grin, then continued talking before he could come up with anything witty to say in return. "But you know what?"

"What?" Roderic said, then kicked himself for surely falling into a trap that would make him look idiotic. So many weeks without Katharine had made him rusty on conversing with her.

"I love you," she said.

Roderic blinked at the unexpected statement. He couldn't tell for sure whether she was joking or serious, but he didn't expect it any other way from Katharine.

"I love you too," he said, in a tone measured carefully so that she would take his response in whatever way she meant hers.

"Someone has to," she said, then yawned and closed her eyes, finishing the conversation.

Roderic shook his head and smiled.

_I missed her._

* * *

**Final word count: 4027**

**The climax! What do you think? Characters? Plot? Opinions? Hate it?**

silliana**: Oh, yes. You know I never do things the easy way. Hm, interesting observation. To be honest, I'm not sure they're quite right in the head. They've got strange morals, and they do their best to help the kingdom, but they are a bit wacky. No, you never did. He escaped the others, that's why he's not with them. **

Ellsbetta**: Haha! There is a very cute little scene between Barb and Suzie about Joseph that got cut out. --sigh!-- It'll be in the Blooper Reel, though, so watch for it. Um, dunno where you got that idea either. They're definitely cousins.**

daring2dream**: Sure, you can have both. Yeah, both pairs are finally getting along. Took 'em long enough. --whacks Jody and Katharine upside the head for being difficult-- Interesting theory on Joseph. Thanks!**

Crayola Color Sky**: Well, I did say I would only be gone for two weeks and that turned in to three, so. --face-- But eh, I'm back! Another chapter? Soon, yes? Joseph's luck is topsy-turvy. One moment he gets wrangled into a band of miscreants, the next he's on a rescue mission, then he got separated from the group, and now he actually found the Princess and is off with another group of wackos! --laugh!-- I just realized how much that poor guy's been through. --pats him on the back--**

SIMBA**: I'm glad you loved it. **

**I HAVE SEVERAL QUESTIONS**** that I'm very curious about. Please pick one (or more!) to answer in your review, if you don't mind terribly. Of course, if you have no answer, don't feel pressured. I just hope to get a few responses to these questions: **

What do you all think of Katharine's little show of bravado in there?

Was it purely to distract the vampire?

Do you think she would have sacrificed her life for Roderic if it came down to it?

Does this make you think any differently of her character?

What was your initial reaction to Katharine's rescue?

**GENERAL NOTE: The story's almost over! Don't forget to look out for the Blooper Reel to see some ridiculous outtakes and special features. **

**Reviewers get a bag of candied nuts. Whichever nuts you like. If you don't like nuts, you can have some candied fruits instead.**


	38. Love Is Different Than You Think

**17 . 6 . 08**

**So. This is the ****end****. I hope you enjoy the final chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Cordelia Albany still does not belong to me.** Clar the Pirate** is fantastic.**

* * *

_"And so, as every fairy tale ends, 'They live happily ever after. The End.'"_

The Real Cinderella --Crayola Color Sky

* * *

Jody woke up to see someone creep into the unlit back room. He slid his legs from underneath Meriwether's as smoothly as he could and made his way to the door.

_If it's the doctor, I'm going to feel incredibly stupid,_ he thought, repressing a yawn and looking in.

A shape was bent over the sleeping princess, holding a knife.

"Hey!" Jody shouted, hoping to startle him as he lunged.

The figure stood straight up, and Jody pinned him to the floor with little effort, though he, surprisingly, almost wriggled free before Jody smashed the knife hand violently against the floor, eliciting a gasp.

"What is happening?" Roderic said, falling out of the narrow cot and jumping instantly to his feet.

"Someone _else_ is trying to murder the Princess," Jody said through gritted teeth, holding the figure securely despite his desperate attempts to escape.

Roderic fumbled to light a lantern while Katharine wordlessly propped herself up on one elbow to observe the proceedings, as if third time attempted murder was nothing too interesting. As the lantern flickered to light, the unrepentant face surprised both men.

"Samantha?"

"Sammy?"

"Jody," she said flatly. "Long time no see."

"Since when are you an assassin?" Jody asked.

"Samantha?" Roderic said, sounding strangled.

Jody twisted his head around to look at him, question forgotten.

"How do you know her?" he asked aggressively, registering the disbelieving, panicked look on his face. "Why do you look guilty? If you hurt her—"

"The fraternal affection is touching, but you're a little late," Samantha said coldly.

Jody's jaw tightened.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

"Love happened, Jody," she said, smiling. "I loved the best man anyone could have wished for, but he didn't even try to love me back. The one time I couldn't stand up for myself, the one time I could have used your help, you weren't there. Now, I'm taking care of the problem myself, and you show up. Thanks for nothing, Joe."

"You thought killing Katharine would make me love you?" Roderic said faintly.

"You're not thinking clearly, Sammo," Jody said worriedly, helping her off the floor while surreptitiously pocketing her knife.

"Oh, Roderic, you look terrible," Samantha said in concern, taking in his tattered peasant's clothes and bandaged arm.

Without even a shift in weight, she sprung and flung her arms around Roderic and kissed him violently, ruthlessly, until he grabbed her shoulders and held her at arm's length. Her eyes were glinting and wild, and a knowing expression fitted her smile.

Both Roderic and Jody had the urge to cry, but they both overcame it fairly easily, Jody by yanking her arms behind her back and jerking her away from Roderic, and Roderic by sitting down hard on the end of Katharine's bed and gritting his teeth. There was something else to be said.

"You are going to die for this," he said quietly, the royal severity in his tone.

Samantha looked stricken. Jody looked hostile.

"No!" she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. "You can't kill me for loving you!"

"It is not – loving me that you are being punished for. You are being punished for the irresponsibility of your actions." He paused, the firm kingly aspect of him under attack by her weeping. "With some careful talking, I might be able to get you a life sentence."

Samantha glared at Katharine.

"I should have killed you the first time."

No one had time to react to that revelation.

"That's enough," Katharine said coldly, rising from her bed as she might have from a royal throne.

Her manner drew respect, unwillingly from Samantha, despite her disheveled and altogether shocking appearance.

"I have heard quite enough of your begging and blathering, miss. Rise from the floor, hold yourself like the respectable woman you are not, look me in the eye, and give me a reason why you shouldn't be sentenced to death. You have tried to kill me twice. Speak, now!"

Samantha's glare would have weakened a lesser opponent, even with the tears still welling in her eyes.

"I love him," she spat, "and I want what's best for him."

"Were you made the orchestrator of the universe? Pity, I've missed the announcement," Katharine said scathingly. Roderic had to wince at the biting sarcasm.

"You're a heartless woman," Samantha seethed. "You will ruin him, beyond repair. I was doing the world a favor."

Katharine held her eyes.

"I rather think that killing the woman he loves would ruin him more."

Samantha burst into tears again, sinking to the floor. Roderic glanced at Katharine, but her mask was set on her face, making her coolly indifferent.

"Jody, if you please," Katharine said, gesturing toward the puddle of Samantha.

Jody looked distinctly indistinct. This was Sammy. His little Sammy! _I can't just cart her away like a common criminal!_

"I can't," Jody said, appalled at the gravely quality of his voice.

"Jody, I'm not asking you to wield the axe," she said, though her tone had softened. "Please just make sure she doesn't leave while someone fetches the butcher."

After a few moments of muted protest, Roderic agreed to help Katharine from the room, though he insisted on finding the butcher himself. Jody had the feeling that he was only agreeing because he didn't want his wife in the same room as Samantha.

Jody lowered himself painfully to sit beside Samantha, looking at the woman he regretted barely knowing. Her hair: that was what had defined her as a Flannlin. Now, long and luxurious, it was the exact same shade as his own and their father's. There were hints and traces of their father and her mother splayed over her features, hardened by the passing of time since he had last seen her, five years ago.

It was haunting how much she had grown up in those short years. She was a carefree girl at her sister's wedding, excited at her liberation from the bossy older sister, but tearful at their parting. She was quite normal, Jody had thought. She must have moved to the palace after that. But why? And why didn't she send him word? What had happened to her at home?

He put a large hand on her arm, and she whipped her head up. She stared impassively at him, sniffling.

"What?" she said thickly.

Of all the questions he wanted to ask, the only one he could seem to voice was,

"Why the Prince?"

Samantha wiped her eyes and nose with her already drenched sleeve and sighed.

"You've spent time with him, I wager. You should know! He's so caring, and sensitive, and he protects who he loves. They matter to him more than life itself. I fell for him, Jody. What's this business I heard at the castle about you rescuing Celeste, and Roderic giving you two a cottage? Wasn't Lee the one that was smitten with her way back when?"

"He died in the war," Jody said.

Samantha nodded, looking faintly sympathetic.

"So you got her?"

"I didn't 'get her,' Sammy. That's a little crude. She was pregnant when he died, so I married her to take care of her and baby Mara Leigh."

"Another loveless marriage," she growled. "Please don't tell me you deluded yourselves into thinking you're in love with each other, too!"

"I'll say nothing of the kind," Jody said ambiguously.

"Good," Samantha said. "Because you know it can't _really_ be love when you're forced together. You may think it's love, but it just won't last."

Jody leaned back against the wall and let out a breath.

"Samantha," he said after a pause, hesitating and feeling very self-conscious. "I think love might be a bit different than you think. You _can __love_ anyone, and surely you can grow some romantic feelings for someone after being close to them for a long time. But more than romance, _love_ is a mutual caring, a selflessness, and without even realizing it, you've crossed the border between intense friendship and romantic love. It's not something that just happens, or at least, not all at once."

Samantha studied him.

"You've deluded yourself. Poor wretch."

* * *

"Celeste! What are you doing here?" Katharine said in surprise, starting to stand from her position on the couch.

Roderic held her firmly down, smiling at Celeste.

"Hello, Mrs. Flannlin. How do you fare?"

"Much better now that I'm here where all the action is," Celeste said with a nervous smile and a wobbly curtsy. "Cordelia came by and asked me if I wanted to come with her to town. Kayla said she could manage without me, so here I am! Where's Jody?"

"Watching the murderess-to-be," Katharine said lightly. "In there." She gestured toward the back room.

Celeste's green eyes widened in surprise.

"Who did she try to kill?" Celeste asked.

"Me," Katharine said, almost carelessly. "Again. Jody seemed to know her. Samantha? Sammy?"

"His half-sister?" Celeste said, eyes widening further.

She strode toward the closed door.

"I think young Sammy was different than older Sammy," Katharine commented wryly, pushing Roderic's restraining hands off her midsection. "Let me up. I'm not an invalid."

"Drink some more water," Roderic said, handing her a glass.

She rolled her eyes with a longsuffering air and took an exaggerated swig of water. Roderic allowed her to sit up, then, and he sat beside her. Their fingers found each other without a conscious thought from either of them. Roderic suddenly thought of something.

"Wait, how do you know Celeste?"

"I have been staying with her for the past several days," Katharine said, not bothering to keep a laugh out of her voice.

"There are worse places you could have stayed," Roderic said with a sigh, not wishing to envision any of the worse homes he had seen in dreams.

"They had seven children," Katharine said with a smile.

"Oh, I am terribly sorry."

"I like children," she said, looking over at him.

"You like children?" Roderic said, taken aback.

A swift knock on the door saved either of them from an answer.

"You highnesses?" a man said, poking his head in, then smiling.

"Hello, Anthony," Katharine said with one of her brilliant smiles, though Roderic saw that this was not a genuine one.

He knelt before Roderic, bowing his head.

"I am Sir Anthony, my prince."

"To what do I own this honor?" Roderic asked tactfully, looking over at Katharine with a questioning look.

"I have come to offer my humble services to you in whatever way they can be used, as a member of the Justice Preservation League."

"He rescued me from the vampires," Katharine whispered in his ear.

"You and your League have my heartfelt thanks," Roderic said earnestly, taking the information in stride, "for rescuing my princess. Are you represented in my council?"

"No, your majesty," Anthony said, looking up, but still kneeling.

"I will grant your League a position in my personal council, where your voice can be heard."

"Thank you for your generosity, your majesty," Anthony said, breathless with joy.

Roderic didn't notice Katharine's stricken eyes until Anthony had left.

"What is wrong, Katharine?"

She looked at him, her face set strangely, and Roderic began to have the feeling that he had made a big mistake before she burst into laughter.

"You're going to have – a heck of a time – trying to tone down their ideals," she said through fits of laughter. "Oh, Roderic. I should have warned you."

Roderic shook his head and laughed too.

"I suppose I am too impetuous."

"That's a change from what you were before," Katharine said, calming her laughter somewhat.

Roderic considered this thoughtfully, but Joseph's burst of sleep-singing and Meriwether consequently waking from the armchair with a startled scream kept him from any earnest consideration.

"Katharine! You're alright!" she said, after she'd discovered that someone other than her and Joseph were in the room.

She rushed over to the couch and sat next to Katharine, beaming.

"I'm so glad you're alright!" she said happily.

"You could have been killed, Meriwether," Katharine said sternly. "I don't know what they were thinking, allowing you to come with them." The corner of her mouth tipped up fondly. "I'm glad you're alright too, Mer."

Celeste came back from the doorway with a strange look on her face, but when Katharine questioned it, she said it was nothing.

* * *

"Have you heard that the Prince and _both_ Terriotian Princesses have been found?" the woman asked, filling her basket with bread.

"Katharine too? How badly was she mangled?" the sour man asked, holding out a hand for the woman's money.

"No, _alive_, you ninny. Here, that should be right. It's true! And a godsend, too, when talk of uprisings and the breaking of the treaty were being tossed around like hot flapjacks."

"A godsend, surely," the man said, triple counting her change and nodding a goodbye to the woman. "I won't believe they're all alive 'til I see 'em with my own peepers."

* * *

"Roderic, we need to leave for the capital!"

Roderic startled awake, recalling with amusement those days where he actually woke up normally. Johnathon stood in front of him, dusty from the road.

"The carriages will be arriving within the hour. We need to make sure that you are ready to go, and—"

He froze when he saw Katharine. She seemed oblivious to the awkwardness the other man was obviously experiencing as his eyes darted to the door, the ceiling, Roderic, the window, the floor, and anything other than her.

"Hello, Johnathon," Roderic said, smiling, and endeavoring to ease his friend's awkwardness. "I see you wasted no time getting here."

"Yes, well, no; no, I didn't," Johnathon said, clearing his throat. "Well, the carriages are arriving. One is carrying King Gollath and Princes Everard and Willnim; they wish to take Princess Meriwether and go home to Terriot at once, to show her to their country, no doubt. You two are going straight to the capital, where your father has organized a festival in honor of your safe returns. You two will be there to still everyone's tongues on rumors of bodies being found and other such nonsense."

"Johnathon, talk with me a moment," Katharine said, giving Roderic a pointed look.

"That sounds marvelous, Johnathon," Roderic said to him, then turned to Katharine.

He paused a moment, then decided to overrule his gut feeling of jealousy – something he seemed to be feeling an annoying amount of lately – and leave the room. He set out on a brisk walk in the afternoon sun, nodding and smiling at the villagers who beamed and waved at him. The cool air cleared his mind, and he felt more awake than he had a few moments ago. The quaint town wasn't much to look at, but once Roderic started walking, he found it hard to stop. He circled the town several times and found himself humming the song Joseph sang under his breath as he walked.

The carriages arrived with fanfare and trumpets, making Roderic grin.

"The royalty of Terriot has arrived! Make way for the King!"

He trotted over to where the carriage was stopping, in front of the doctor's house where Johnathon's horse was tethered.

"Welcome, my lords," he said, slightly out of breath, as he made it to the carriage. King Gollath and Prince Willnim were already disembarking. "I apologize for my poor appearance."

"Thank you, Roderic," King Gollath said largely, bowing marginally.

"Thank you," Willnim echoed, looking around distractedly. "Where is Meriwether?"

"Father!" Meriwether said, sweeping out of the house as fast as propriety allowed her.

Willnim's face lit up as he embraced his daughter, kissing her repeatedly.

"Meriwether, oh, your mother has been so worried about you! You must tell us all about it once you're safe at home," he said.

Prince Everard hugged her tightly as well, though his eyes wandered to the doctor's house anxiously.

"Welcome, Prince Everard," Roderic said, bowing. "Katharine is inside resting. If you will join me, I am sure she will be delighted to see you."

A hurried reunion among the Terriotian royalty took place while the horses were switched to begin their long journeys home. A change of clothes had been thoughtfully packed for all the royalty, and they were all grateful to have their own clothing back again. All too soon, the servants declared that it was time to go, if they were to be in time for the festival the next morning.

Everyone flurried about, waving goodbye to old friends and new, and some tearful hugs were exchanged between Katharine and Celeste. Celeste was the more tearful of the two, but Roderic thought he saw some moisture in Katharine's eyes before she turned away. Jody and Roderic just smiled at each other and waved. Cordelia hugged them all gaily, laughed heartily at Joseph's ballad commemorating the whole ordeal, then swung her leg over her horse and rode off before anyone could tell her that her parents were looking for her.

Meriwether hugged Roderic and Katharine both, cried a little, then boarded her own carriage. The Princes and King exchanged formal bows, friendly handshakes, and one solid shoulder-thumping from Gollath. Joseph hugged absolutely everyone, never closing his mouth for a minute as he lamented their short friendships.

"Parting is such sweet sorrow," he sniffed, clinging to the very surprised King Gollath's shoulder.

After he was prised off of everyone, Katharine was carefully moved, despite her protests that she could walk, into the carriage, and both royal carriages set off. Roderic and Katharine both leaned out their respective windows and waved to the townsfolk as they rode out of town.

"Goodbye Katharine!" Celeste called, wiping her eyes. "Have a wonderful time at the festival!"

"Goodbye!" Katharine shouted back.

"Goodbye Pwince Wod'wick!" a little boy said, jumping up and down and waving as hard as he could so that he could be seen.

Roderic smiled at him and saluted. The boy's mother beamed.

Once they had passed out of town, with only bronzing trees to see, they both pulled their heads back in and looked at each other. Katharine smiled wickedly and daintily held out her hand.

"Hello. I'm Princess Katharine."

They both laughed loudly enough to frighten the footman, but he managed to regain his composure fairly quickly.

"Royals," he said with a dry chuckle.

* * *

Celeste had her arms linked around Jody's torso as he watched Samantha be driven away – back to Allearsi where she would await trial.

"It's not your fault, you know," Celeste said to him.

"I know it isn't," Jody said, and he meant it. He truly knew that it wasn't, but that didn't stop his heart from going out to her. "I know it isn't."

Celeste buried her nose in his shirt and inhaled, then murmured something.

"What?" he asked, dipping his head to hear her over the receding sounds of horses.

"You were right about love," she said into his ear, her breath tickling it.

"What?" he repeated stupidly.

She smiled at him, and turned back to the house.

* * *

**Final word count: 3172**

**What did you think of the twist? Did you see it coming? How do you like the ending? **

silliana**: Thank you for your advice, as always. I would have liked to stretch it out, but I just couldn't, plausibly. Yet another thing I will fix on the rewrite. And thank you for your insight on Katharine; it was most appreciated. The Blooper Reel's first chapter (an epilogue of sorts that I didn't feel fit very well here) is already posted.**

Pixel Fairy**: Thanks for your views on Katharine. I love hearing from all of you! The vampires are just vampires. They are the 'bad guys' in this story. Don't try to think too hard about them... unless you're reading SHOE, because they do have an important story in that. Here, they're passed off as the bad guys, and since they, well, vanish, they can't really be apprehended. In SHOE, you hear more about them and what they were really up to.**

Natsuhiko**: Thanks for reviewing! Surprises, ah. You know, I think I like those a little too much.**

Eva**: Whew. I am much relieved that you are more satisfied with my chapters now. I was on pins and needles. 36: I liked that part, too. It was added as an afterthought, but I'm glad someone picked up on the strange sweetness of it. Jody and Rod are both growing up a little too. I'm very pleased that you're catching all of those little life-change moments. Joseph and Suzie. Heehee. 37: For your answer to the vampire question, you won't mind if I copy and paste from **Pixel Fairy**'s similar question, will you? **_**"Don't try to think too hard about them... unless you're reading SHOE, because they do have an important story in that. Here, they're passed off as the bad guys, and since they, well, vanish, they can't really be apprehended. In SHOE, you hear more about them and what they were really up to."**_** Thank you for your wonderful insight into Katharine's character. I love it when you do that. I'm glad you're proud of her; I am too. Even though she wasn't planning to really die, she did face her terrible fears to save his life. She grew up a lot. "Will she ever learn to be genuinely affectionate, and encouraging?!" you ask? Well. Read The Blooper Reel and see what you think of that. Celeste! Ha! Yes, she probably could. While a sequel sounds fun, I really must be getting back to my other series: The Iris Chronicles. Perhaps, starting with a rewrite of Nasap to get me back in the Action/Adventure/Romance genre in earnest. Ah, as for Joseph's fixing: I'll tell you that bit of information (along with some other pieces of trivia that couldn't fit comfortably in the story) in The Blooper Reel.**

Bingo7**: Confusing, yeah. It is. Sorry about that. Cadmus tends to overcomplicate things. --glares in his direction-- Thanks for your opinions on Katharine's behavior. Of course there must be a confession sometime: she's too straightforward, and Roderic's too pitiful. She said she loved him, of course, but she did it in her own way. --chuckle-- Ah, she's a brat. But, she's growing on me. Jody didn't exactly swing Celeste around, but what did you think of their relationship progression in this chapter?**

FaylinnNorse**: Oh, that is a relief. Yes, I think most people are quite busy this time of year. Oh, a wedding! I'm glad it went well. I extend my congratulations to him, not that he has any clue who I am, but, weddings are a happy thing nonetheless. Ah, heh heh, about that wonderful story of yours... Well, you'll see that I reviewed it properly now. I've been reading it all along. I'm so wicked on occasion. Yes, good eye; they were mentioned in SHOE. Oh, and you suspect someone? Brilliant. --pokes **Lobuck**-- She's falling into the 'very busy' category at the moment, but hopefully she can eke out another chapter soon. --pokes again for good measure-- Marrying Spencer, hm? You'll have to fight the Philettin princess for him. Heh. --wink-- Describe vampires more. --looks over at Caddy who has begun a preliminary sketch under the 'rewrite' area of his chalkboard-- Thanks for the tip. Of course you knew it. Hm. I liked your insight on Katharine. It was well thought out: love and guilt in combination, almost like she was making something up to him. Good ideas. Thanks! Johnathon and Samantha, though... --biting lip with a sad frown-- Oh, if only she would have grown up! It kills me, sometimes, what people—erm—characters—put themselves through.**

littlema**: The lack of imminent peril didn't last long, as you can see. --grin-- Katharine has a knack of getting herself into trouble. Interesting questions and insights. Thanks for the review.**

Darth Chocolate**: Motor mouths are great fun to write. Twilight? Oh, don't get me started. --face-- I hope this measured up to your expectations!**

Crayola Color Sky**: You answered all of them! Wow! Thanks! I like your opinions on Katty, and I hope the ending wasn't a disappointment.**

daring2dream**: Katharine did act weirdly last chapter. Thanks for your opinions! Joseph's a peach. He's just darling, and so much fun to write. --grin-- Celeste is quite the little heroine. **

**It's over. Finally. What begun as a simple, albeit spiteful, story has now come to its meandering end 38 chapters later. I'd like to extend a special thanks to those few of you who have been with me since the very **_**very **_**beginning:**

_Clar the Pirate_: Your reviews never cease to brighten a day, no matter how dreary. Your insight and wittiness make me laugh whether I feel like it or not. Your characters that I so happily borrowed really added an element of humor and sweetness to the story that I otherwise could not have attained. Thank you for sticking with me.

_FaylinnNorse_: Your opinions and praises always make me sound better than I am. For that, I thank you. Thank you, also, for painting such a vivid picture in my mind that it inspired me to write one of the scenes I am most satisfied with, though it never fit into the story. (But, it IS going to be in The Blooper Reel!) Your optimism and good cheer are infectious, and I know that when I have a review from you, I can be prepared to smile.

_daring2dream_: You always have something nice to say, and I love that you have an opinion on almost everything in the story. You've followed my story all the way to its conclusion, giving me sweet reviews the whole way. Thank you.

_SIMBA_: Though short and sweet, and somewhat sporadic at times, your reviews have always been there. Thank you for your ceaseless encouragement, and for liking my obstinate characters even when they're idiots. I'm not sure whether I should thank you or make a face at you for inspiring that Meriwether/Andrew scene that is to feature in The Blooper Reel, but you at least deserve some recognition for that. Thanks for everything.

**Now that I feel already as if I am making a tearful farewell speech, I might as well finish it out that way by thanking all my reviewers, which are too numerous to mention. I appreciated every one of you, no matter if you gave one review or thirty-eight. Feedback means a lot to me, and that you took any amount of your precious time to read my story, much less write me a note about it, brings a smile to my face. I can only hope to have such a supportive cast of reviewers in the future.**

**Not only were you supportive, though, but you told me what you thought. You let me know if it was confusing or startling, you pointed out plot holes and impossibilities to me, and you handed me your constructive criticism that, while sometimes hard to hear, was nonetheless honest and helpful. For your genuineness, you deserve more than cyber food, but that's all I have to offer you. Help yourselves to some end-of-fic cake.**

**While you're eating, I'd like to remind you all of **The Blooper Reel**. The first chapter (an epilogue of sorts for both couples) is posted now.**

**Thank you, all of you, and I hope to see you again when I pick up **"Not All Princes are Nice"** and **"Not All Books Should Be Read"** again, which will be soon.**

_**Ciao.**_


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